Thorns

I will let you
undress me.
But I warn you!
I have thorns like any Rose.

And you could hurt me
with your bare hands.
You could hurt me using the sharp edge of what you say.

I'm lost to you now.
And no amount of reason
will save me.

Allow me to lead you
to a place.
Where the light bends itself
to soft repose.

And I will paint my words
across your back with my
silver tongue.

I will feed you silver sage
and call you my wild horse.

But I warn you!
I have thorns like any rose.