Rosy Revolver

Your Bolivian Rosewood grip fits and melds into my palm,
A custom-made extension of my limb that feels completely organic.
Your barrel stainless steel with intricate roses engraved on you,
Like beautiful wild roses covering the soft skin of a woman’s ribs.

I see the essence of you in your reflective mirror.
I envision a strong woman holding a red rose covered in briars
Cutting her palm, dripping blood as she refuses to let go.
When I hold you, I am reminded of the old days
When I didn’t need, but I desired you.
When I looked at you only admiring your beauty.

Your cylinder holds six .38 specials.
I pull your trigger and you push out the bullets
And kick up like a woman dancing choreography you know well.
Cock and pull back, explode out, push forward, kick up and repeat five times then reload.

I feel the reassuring icy touch of you digging into my side
Constantly reminding me you’re there.
You’re the type of woman often called a bitch
But truly you just have an ironclad heart
As you protect those who you hold dear.

Some may fear you because you are ‘dangerous,’
But you are as safe as a kitchen knife
So long as I am careful you won’t hurt anyone,
But if I am threatened
You’re a mama bear prepared to protect.

They try to ban you, take you away,
And, yes, not everyone deserves you.
But just because you can hurt
Doesn’t mean you should be taken away.
Most of us who love you
Use mama bear to protect us
Or just keep you to admire your beauty.
So why should you be taken away from us
When we never abused you?