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Click hereThe blossom of the bullnettle
is whiter by far than any honeysuckle flower
and smells much sweeter
but the perfume is made brittle
by the fact that the spines
at the base of the bloom
are longer than the petals and loom
toward the nose, full of poison.
“Te extraño,” I told her.
“Oh, don’t bring that mess up again,” she said.
At first it merely hurts. All in the head,
they say, the long itching, after.
~
NETTLE? Hehehey! nice poem fohen
this poem was as lovely as the scent
of a bullnettle <grin>
the last verse is very strong, especially the last lines, I longed for more tightness in the verses above, but having said that, this is a poem that I really enjoyed!