ROSE AND CHINESE ROSE

When a poet cannot explain

what poetry is

rose and Chinese rose compete to open up next to one another

When a poem is on the tip of the tongue

the tip of the poet’s nose sweats

while rosy color capers on her cheeks

The Chinese rose bears the flowers of the rose

while the rose endures in silence

Each woman I adore without exception loves flowers

while I love to hear her squeals as she falls for the flowers

without being bothered by the differences between the two roses

When I am finally conscious of love

what poetry is no longer matters

What matters is that I’ve learned

to envelop accidental love into inevitable love