HE LOVES ME...
HE LOVES ME NOT...
HE LOVES ME...
<3
a boy gave me a rose.
I picked it apart
petal by petal
saying out load
"he loves me - he loves me not"
as if it was certain.
The petals were treasured
and gathered neatly in my journal.
How can I be so blessed
at 54 years of age
to be given
a rose
again, treasured
in my journal
by the same
boy!
xo <3
