these billows
of smoke
ploddingly
smothers
the willows
of provoke

oh l o v e,

how

b i t t e r

it is

to

     y
        e
           a
              r
                 n

                        for

                               ­   *y o u

the winds
c a r r y
careful
echoes
to the
other
side of
*e a r t h

oh love,*

speak of words
suffused with
saccharine and glacé
that you have
fermented with
chagrin and grace
into these
last eight
remaining days

the celestial bodies
float
above my
flummoxed
thoughts
as another drag
of
this

                        ember-encrusted

  stupor-e­nhanced

                  fear-suffused


stick
brings
life and
death
and oblivion
furthermore