Samuel 15

I walked over to the roses,
finally pricking off the outer petals,
per the instructions,
now that bouquets come with instructions.

I winced,
plucking each petal with a quick jerk,
as though each one were an eyelash,
until a pile formed beside the vase.

Cradling them in my palms,
I inhaled their faint fragrance.
I sprinkled them on my bed,
much like a hotel would do
to encourage romance.

I threw them in the air
and watched them land on the dog.
I rubbed them across my cheek.

When was the last time
you have had rose petals caress your cheek?

I assembled them into a small pillow
and lay on the rose petals
while reading some poetry.

I know I told you on the phone
that I would read Samuel 15.
But that's what you get
for buying me the roses.

(Rough draft.)