a rose with no thorns


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1. a rose with no thorns

 

‘I wish to cling to your skin, to hug it tightly to my own and peel it back - away from your skeleton and its counterparts in order to uncover your bones and see you truly.’ he said. ‘People wear masks for a reason but I don’t believe you have a reason. I want to peel away all your layers, pick you apart with my eyes as if you were a rose and watch the petals drop one by one.’

‘Why,’ she laughed. ‘You do like talking in metaphors, don’t you? However, you are disregarding an important thing,’ she added. ‘For I am not a rose, or an onion; therefore you cannot peel me apart layer by layer, petal by petal. Besides, that all sounds rather painful.’

‘And roses have thorns,’ she smiled. ‘If we were to touch, I would inevitably damage you  and you would shrink away from the pain.’

‘I don’t care about that.’ he replied.

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