daisies and all their dead stems
By erica jeanne wagner '25
i burned our bed with the candle of aphrodite;
the goddess of love wouldn’t know what to say if
she ever laid eyes on me.
love is loudest afterwards, once something’s
makes you wish it never was, or at least, makes
you wish you tried.
lo and behold: the thing that never opened its
writhing under venus and its heat- under
burning lust it fries!
what’s to fear when two become one?
and what’s to believe when forever is done?
oh, down the wishing well my money goes;
the foggy water below doth nourish an
ever-blooming red rose.
bitter winter and biting snow have warmed me,
for summer hath killed me, and autumn never
why do i carry such a sword,
when the battle of love has made me so bored?
gone are the days of dancing and gems;
so alone in the ballroom is where i waltz with
daisies and all their dead stems.