(Roses) Among Other Things You Changed For Me

(Roses) Among Other Things You Changed For Me

A rose by any other name,
Still became something I never approached,
I never saw the point beyond the thorns,
Even though I was told it was beautiful,
Using the other four senses as well,
But I could never be bothered,
The world is a stage,
A boring metaphor at best,
One that made me see the world as superficial,
As if we were all born to simply play games and lie,
So I never bothered to read these common words,
These works of art did bore me,
They did not drill spirals into my mind,
In which my thoughts could leak, drain, and pool,
So I never bothered,
Until you came along, your voice laced with the rhythm of them,
They were your cup of tea,
Thus your breath was stained with them,
I caught the scent, unexperienced before,
Because it slunk from your lips, I was hooked,
Digging ever so silently in my mind,
My thoughts did pool, turning dark,
Like an ink-tip dropped in water,
Fluid and intimate, changing the color if not the composition,
A rose by any other name,
It became sweet,
Yanked upon the stage I was,
Upon that stage, I danced,
A willing player for you, if only to have your eyes watch me,
Soon, my breath became stained too,
Although the words did nothing to inhibit my accent,
Addicted to this new way of feeling you,
I read, nay devoured devoutedly these very dictations,
That you seemed to gain pleasure in,
In reading, did I become closer to you,
Did I hear your voice and watch you play,
As if drinking from the same cup you did,
Became a stolen kiss,
O trepass sweetly urged,
In drinking, stealing from the altar of your mouth,
That sacred breath in blasphemous act,
You did make me love these acclaimed words,
In opening to pages and poems in hopes that you,
Give me my sin again.