By A. Phelps
"The Roses of Heliogabalus” by Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema
drown me in the petals that lace your marble floor
there could’ve been a hundred,
a thousand, maybe more
dip me in your honey and then leave me
sweet and sore
they’ll hang me out to dry
and then leave me at your door
they’ll just hang me out to dry
and do the same things done before
paint me with your kisses
and flood me with your tears
cry your little heart out
‘till i’m tasting salt for years
tell me all your favorite hopes
and all your secret fears
just keep powering my heart
by turning all these rusty gears
keep on powering my heart
and i’ll make sure no darkness nears
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