grecian burn

by Linda M. Crate

i would say i'm as easily
read as a book,
but this whole
town seems
illiterate;
so i'll say it like this
i wear my emotions
on my sleeves—
don't believe in mind games
or hiding secrets deep
within the gardens
of my heart
because flowers are meant
to bloom;
so why did you cut
them all down?
all my roses wilted at
your feet and you
let them,
and i cried as demeter at
the loss of persephone—
but i have no
snow to
afford me so i'll burn you
in the gaze of apollo's
sun let your charred
black wings
lead you home.