Discharged

ROSE

Oh,

and

then,

in my

fated

wife's

lovely

fiction,

Rose —

the love,

the smell,

the flower, 

the thorns,

the beauty;

the dreams,

the sun rose,

the color pink,

the new morn;

the distant past,

the sunrise oath;

the wind at dawn,

the clouds in flock,

the earth and stars,

the moon and night,

the might and worlds,

the sea and red and kiss,

the tangle and light enow,

the leap and blast and rush,

the unseen and upborne and ride.

the strength and triumph and meeting,

the story told by me to you the dear stranger —

I found the hints that make her name: Sarah Carice Beaulieu.