Juniper,
growing in my garden,
  picked it between leaves of basil to sweeten my tea.
   Lover,
     found me between reef and sand,
       kissed me under full moon.
         I'll ride my bicycle a thousand miles.
          My love, with lips like a strain,  
            mouth like a hard set line, and I can feel your tears
               down my face as you make love to the sensory perceptions
                 of warmth and together.
                   I slog through this mud,  
                     watch gravel flick from boots.
                       I watch skulls meet into lips making root silence.
                         My love, kiss this dead skull