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