The Soul of a Rose

Imagine You plucked
The Perfect Rose,
the color of
a rare
petit syrah,

to preside over
the table
presenting The Dinner
marking a Decade of
The Perfect Love.

Moments before
Your Lover arrives,
You notice
The Rose
bears the marks of
a hungry insect
on several of its
perfect leaves,
and on its
perfect petals
the scuffings of
a buzzing bee, or
a hovering hummingbird.

Aghast,
you spy the sticky
trail of a snail,
where no snail
ought to be.

Too late!
Your Lover is here,
and buries the
tip of her nose
amid the
marks and scuffings,

declaring
She loves The Rose
nearly as much as
She loves You.

Imagine
You and I
agree to see
our everlasting Souls
to be as
Perfect as that
Perfect Rose.

(Photo by Engin Akyurt; UnSplash)