it's more than beauty
the sun that brings with her, life
the coffee is brewed, apples bruised
honey or marmalade
both heat on the cheek,
and through the seasons I lie

apiaries and aviaries
roses sprout to wilt
to pay their duties,
she brought me that bouquet,
I said i'd put it in a vase
while the constellations linger

6am now she will soar again
in enormous impossible colours
with fleeting secrets,
and all the beautiful places
I will never see have seen her grace,
through air pollution or aurora
she's filled with their pain, love
curtains have another side
the grass is green the sky is blue