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Just a little taste of spring:
Hands jerking over rosebuds
Wheeling inside a weightless wind
The slender self would flood
Numbers, sunlit fall
Without winding, nor binding no
Not this kiss, for that’s all it is
A kiss and a thunder so
The flower smiles today
Before the morrow’s sunless yoke:
The higher they be howling
The sooner sets the stroke
And age, it cries out for the coy
For youth knows yet the blood,
and time the wisdom of the sleepless
knows the quiet of life caught in the bud.
Silent morning springs
the rain’s gentle kiss nothing
to the loss of you.
Just a drink of you
young hearts turn to spring’s caress
burning in your waves.
Enfold in me
your light, your life–
sweet summer child
turn not your color from my heart,
the scent of pine trees,
sculpted in the dawning,
where all of nature is the swell at your sweet breast,
the gathered breaths cultivating
convalesced coercion of my soul.
Breath to breath, I seek your notes,
the tantalized texture of your smile
writhes still in me, in places
only faith should know.
You drink me, though you do not know
the taste of my desire–
the character in the caricature–
myself, I, wilting in that shade,
in those dark places where your lips and light
shall never know, nor ever sing.
heartbeats shudder by the sea
golden life arise.
I fade in secret
Heart with the rain and the leaves—
Wilting spring flowers.