May, this year
For this, I have set myself on fire
Because I dared not set to simmer
The hot luxurious lust, in boil
As the petal flies paled dull and dimmer
I sank below, took teeth to soil.
Here, the tight-lipped frost would weave
Its lattice over spanish moss
Patient, i would watch you leave
And mourn the mellow scent of loss
Across blue willows cracking cold
Whose roots curl at the touch
Of rotting summer fruits of old
In frozen tombs below the mulch
Which bursting to bleed out their sweet
Liquor, for these seeds to swallow
I would hide and watch you eat
The poison that has carved you hollow.
When this tear in time, suspended
Curls into itself at last
The drip of this scorpion moon upended
Will bind us strong against the fleeting fast.