found a pair of discarded panties

violet lace and floral pattern

sheer and splayed

contorted against pitted asphalt and rock salt

–

i don’t know how they found their way there but

it’s been two weeks and

they haven’t moved

–

that first morning they

caught my attention

bright clear morning and warm

out near that dumpster

which i found amusing if

not somewhat appropriate

–

later that week it rained

and I made stupid jokes to myself about whether I ever

got a girl as soaked as these were

–

when the temperature dropped

I returned at night to find

the panties frozen in place

matted

milky-white frost like

a solid sheet of cum

–

captured in trashy elegance

delicate lace suspended

feeble fibers turned rigid

etched flowers decaying

deprived of the once warm flesh which

they had bloomed from

so eagerly

–

ripped from the garden

separated

soiled

fated to wilt

to decompose and rise as compost

–

straying so far from the sun

from a loving hand

from soft skin and

attention

transplanted

to the slums and out-of-sight places

all petals whither