Those burnt thoughts,
Contaminated, contorted by autumn's linger-
As we repent our sins
My heart is pierced by your stinger
The tulips rising towards the incandescent sun
Have flourished and bloomed, nature has won.

Or perhaps it always has? I surrender under the grape vine
The sweet taste of your lips polluting mine.
The grass an emerald ocean, dew gleaming like jewels
Yet the world runs on this endless, melancholic fuel.

I am sinking into the Earth,
Your hands following the curvature of my spine
Needless worry, spring has arrived on time.
She brings clarity, forgiveness back into the soul
The birth of the Dead, replenishing the
Old.

Trapped in retrograde, I live the illusion- that we were frozen by Time's confusion.
But all is warm, our feet moulded into the ground. They create roots, foundations, we are bound.

The scorpion's hiss marks my devotion
Quietly, inside, I hide my emotion.

You melt away into the vast darkness...


Then I wake. Covered in snow, white as snow.