You complained of roses Recklessly blooming, A debauchery of buds Reddening too soon. An indiscreet eruption of petals Wasting exhausted at your door. Meanwhile a heart, That tight little bud of fear and longing, Quietly burst in its green casement Reddening the chest cavity with a private efflorescence And without the embarrassment of a clutter of petals Died unnoticed before noon.