Call Me Lily

Call me Lily not Rose
that was only pretend
anyway

and wax roses melt
paper roses fade to dust
even silk cannot deny

the lie of its own existence
for any length of time
call me Lily

Let me be held
gripped prettily
in white drained hands

made up and perfumed
and I will hide with them
in eternity

as you throw cut
and dying roses
on our coach