Some Roses

Some Roses

Some roses are scratched out,
have been deleted, rubbed away.

Some roses have been scribbled
over. The petals are smashed

beneath graphite or black marker.
Some roses have been snipped

from their stems, from their backing.
Are now lacking context, a body.

Here it is: the remaining vacancy
is petaled, is a hole so unmistakably

roselike you might push your face
into its flatness or hollows hoping

for a remainder of its fragrance.
No longer the flower, sure,

but absolutely the outline, the form.
Some roses, they are reminders.