Tu-lips
red colored petals
pressed so firmly on wall-paper
green sleeves curve your stem
giving importance to the gesture.

Dipped into veneered paper
your firmly pasted presence
surrounds the room in your elegance.

Your rhythm tempers
a tapestry chair molded into your center
two lines hide to gather seems
pretending to be whole flowers.

A rose is lacquered black and bold
highlighted grey thorns protrude
disguising marks left by the last set of paper underneath.

What is the theory,
of flowers deflowered.
Vines that intermingle only to choke,
away a memory of when.
Where if all began and ended in one night.

One more twilight may pass
when you may be removed or impaled
against details of vivid stripes or circles
angled lines deform the nakedness under you.

One day erased, eradicated and destroyed
torn into pieces and painted over.
Forever lost but never forgotten.
To be found again in a decor
brought forward from the past.
By two lovers who love tulips.

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