Unfolding me may wrinkle my skin

Hold me firmly

Too tight pinches me abit

Softly, just enough to whisper friction into my veins

Keep my stem erect with life

A gust

A wince

Crimson orb, becoming distant in view

I lay at your feet

A piece of you--a drop

Stays with me

Stains me like the rest

My rusted barbs winding down my bodace

I've tried to soften them

Bend them

Mend them

Your touch

Touch, the pulsing knowing that warmth has arrived

It hardens them

Preparing me for the inevitable fall

Knowing that that pulsing knowing is a familiar sound

An echo of a heartbeat

Footseps of the next one to wield me

Feel me

and free me

Unprepared for the pinch, the wince, the bleeding

Hear I lie, waiting to be held, always to be released