Sea of Roses by Jay Guo
I would like to swim in a sea of roses, just the petals. I imagine they would be skin-silken against my arms. I would like to plunge in the red dark, the sky a wildfire. Blood-steeped silhouettes and lightning behind the eyelids. I would like to bathe in rosewater, not the cheap stuff, feel that real-clear salubrious pink in my pores. I would like to feel so fragile, my paper-thin body like moths’ wings smeared, ochre across the sea. I would like to suffocate, velvet against the tongue and throat, petalscent tumbling out like water and air and water again. I would like to thrash against the waves, so small and desperate— reflection close against the sky, thorn piles on the waterline.
photo | Lauren Fischer fh 23
