The Woman in Midnight Roses

The Woman in Midnight Roses

her face stays still,

white as moonlight,

with shadows resting,

beneath calm eyes.

blue roses rise,

around her silence,

their petals glowing,

like secrets kept.

black tears slip,

from quiet sorrow,

marking her cheeks,

in slow lines.

she doesn’t move,

yet the room bends,

changing its breath,

to match her calm.

the roses lean in,

as if they hear,

the thoughts she hides,

behind soft lips.

each leaf darkens,

against her skin,

tracing emotions,

she will not voice.

I watch her closely,

feeling her stillness,

pull at my own,

in quiet waves.

and in her eyes,

I see a moment,

caught between worlds,

that never meet.