I have a purple rose for you--
I'm am enchanted always
Walking along highways
I stopped for strangers too.
And here's my heart. I'm faithful
My wounds are bleeding fresh.
Roses? No, thorns in my flesh.
I've never been too careful.
See my hands? I died for love
And I am dying still--
Walking without looking till
I draw near to enough.
--As every day you turn your back,
And I bring you bouquets.
Despite those words, I'm not okay.
You have just what I lack.
See here! I have it all held out
I call you by your name.
Who cares for flowers? I'm ashamed!
I've every cause for doubt!
None. You've none child, see?
Ah! I love you even more.
You run away and play the whore,
But you've not lost sight of me.
Oh God... I'm feeling sick and old.
Thorns grow; my stomach twists.
I broke the thorns, and now it's fixed.
My love will NOT grow cold.
Walking highways lone at night,
Away from proffered roses.
It isn't me your heart opposes.
But I put up a fight.
Not this time. I'll take the street.
There's too much of me at stake.
Whatever careless road you take
Somewhere our paths will meet.
There's craven fear behind my eyes,
But curse you! Still you see it.
You struggle still? So be it:
Tonight the swordplay dies.
No God, no! I'm filth and mire.
Weeds suit me, not your flowers.
Your pride puts you in towers
Where your love's a raging fire.
Yes! No...no. The circumstance
Is one where I'm unable
To come to your sweet table,
Let my heart become entranced.
Now, why? I'm holding all you are
And all I Am. Draw near.
It's an unprecedented fear.
I told you I'd go far--
Stop. It's foolishness, I hold,
To love a wandering girl
In thorns all tightly curled;
With secret scars untold.
I have scars. See you not
The thorn marks on my head?
See where my hands have bled?
Your blame is long-since bought.
I'm holding flowers, child!
To me you now belong.
Your fear of me is wrong.
Dead wrong! You're undefiled.
Broken glass on highways
Have torn apart my feet.
I suffered black defeat
So you could run in my ways.
Come back to me again:
You're enchanting. I delight--
No. I won't be hurt, I'll fight
I'll neither have nor lose you then.
Stop! Shh. Let me-- Come:
Tis cowardice to flee
From love that sets you free.
I know what you run from.
To love means to be risking pain
But love's risk comes with reward
For I have drawn my sword
To win you back again.
Love freely. Be romanced.
This is life. I have you covered.
Let go and trust another.
I've picked the perfect dance.
I'll have the final say:
I'm faithful to the death
And in every daily breath.
To leave you is not my way.
postscript
A dual voice poem. A love poem. I call this visual poetry because the way it is structured is crucial to the meaning. Also, he is speaking in AB, she is responding in BA. Look for the turnings in the conversation--who is leading it? It goes back and forth until the final say.