It was a furnace even early
hot especially for the fall
the trees tall all around you
the lore left you by the trail.
The dreams spill like champagne
popping off and flowing over
though the clean counter and
the tea cup keep company
the words walking through
your open door. One moment
all skin and kisses, the next
all bones and breaks. At once
you wade the ocean
clothed in clouds and tresses,
the waves barely above your knees,
bridges and cities beneath
your windscaped being
as you occlude the burning sun.
Or nested awkward in a pocket,
wrestling with knuckle and thumb
caught in this urgent bloom
breathless before this weighted gaze,
this greedy fist pawing
at your every moment, the light
warm and plain upon your wrist.
