Pink Roses II

As I cool off

in the twilight

waiting

for this gridlock

to open up

like the skies

that one night

late

last November,

like the spider

trapped in his own

black self-made

maze

and cannot find

his way back

to his prey,

my canines

are aching

for blood;

I’m snarling

growling

here

here without you –

and you’re the only

only
I need.