Suzanne Pèrez

Frigid Girl's Love Song

Dearest Blossom,
Pale rider of milk limbs,

Wholly lover of eye, silk and stem,
Lean to me wind-blown,

Come, tell me your name.
They say love is a kind of sacrifice

And I know you bloom, beam,
Die, sprout, and rise again:

A small sea spooning the shore.
Dearest Blossom,

I come with your babies' rapport
In my hair: their fists clenching my tresses

The way my own children would,
If I could only harvest, harvest.

I ask of you: swallow this poem!
It claims, but has no paragon ablution,

This Hara-kiri ritual, this gorge of blood.
Give me, I pray, a love where I flower:

Where my whetted roots spud
And my wounds bloom into roses,

Where he pries the sealed buttercup
And gives back a bloom.

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Suzanne Pèrez is currently a psychology major at Florida Atlantic University's Honors College. She is originally from El Salvador. She is a Scorpio and she loves Sushi, the rain and black coffee. Her work has been published in Conspire, The Writer's Ezine, Haiku Flora, and Del Valle de las Hamacas. She is currently working on her third novel.

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