One Man Clutching a Rose

With the petals breathed in close
Until the blooms tickled his nose
And then to his lips of crimson blue
Iced over in defection
From the sun's hasty retreat
And the meshing of his past with his dreams
He can smile in remembrance
Of the one who treasured him thus
Who would embrace him better
Than this street and its cold shower
Of clear crystals raining down
And drenching his blood stained bones
And he can smile with his back against the wall
Because he knows deep inside
That she's asleep and does not know in dreams
That he's to die
That he spends his last chance to reminisce
Thinking of her, and of a rose's kiss