Rose Again

Gone now, Alice fills the house; she runs from Bill. Bill climbs a wall higher than the roof. Bill is on the roof and into a hole. If I had been a hand holding a bloom, I would reach into a window, place the flower on the floor; I might sing behind a ceremony: man wife heif. If Rose were doom, if Bill never returned, Alice might try to hold Bill like a smell or a view, but Bill would disappear. Or my hand would remain still as the wall leading into the room (windowsills covered with stones); I wouldn't let her leave that soon if I could keep her like a reprimand tenderly. Fool high, fool low dim and sultry Alice flows beneath Rose again, Alice flows against Rose.