unsummered
we were kissing vine leaves,
both of us,
borrowing sunlight from their burns
and mating it with our breath
storms were weaving up-high
and we ignored them
busy to re-edit
the rainbows of dust
twisting and twirling around our wrists
smelling jaded and confused
and undone…
july cared not about
june’s still sour grapes –
green jade beads hanging in clusters
from the ribs of our smiles –
and summer grew
and grew
and our clot of rainbows
orphaned the storm
of amazing conclusions
we were kissing vine leaves,
both of us,
mating them with our sunlight
and breathing them in
we crushed the windflakes
in our hidden palms
and closed our eyes,
shoving whatever residual rainbow
was still smearing our fingertips
under our eyelids
and trying to not cry it out…
you left,
i stayed,
or maybe it was the other way around –
but the vine leaves died,
smelling jaded and confused
and undone…
borrowing sunlight from their burns and mating it with our breath....................thought provoking write by imagery making reader to bespeak of stories by life
Agree wholeheartedly with the two previous comments Lily. You have special talent - and this extraordinary verse is but an example. Wonderful read.
Another well-crafted atmospheric in vino, veritas litaly of butterfly kisses on vine leaves... I enjoyed! Mitch
Your characteristically individual use of language continues to create images beyond the mere pictorial, a poetic truth that carries the reader along previously uncharted paths.
A lovely poem that touched my heart...it is a heart tender in its delivery of sweetness we all pine for. Dorothy A Poet Who Loves To Sing