Writing with tired eyes,
Tie-dyed red.
Through wine mist he stares ahead,
Through walls and time until he finds,
A scene with Alice, in January:
Her cherry blossom nails sailing
Down shivering spine,
Petal bud lips stalk my neck--
We advance and retreat,
Drawing out the chilled honey time
Until we meet.
Her hair cascades around me,
Waterfalls of Midas-felt wheat.
Waves of revelation overtook me and
   Shivers of honesty shook me,
Under her starched ivory sheet.



*Critiques and comments are much appreciated