there is salt where the sugar flew kites that kissed a yellow sun
and that was when you loved me best and all the pomegranates
guffawed in the fog of war with little rare hats-
made of morning dew; due to some devil of a heavenly.
but it’s Different now, the way a season
snaps like a twig-
and All of a Suddenly
the Moon.

there is salt where
the  cream drew breath
from a marble
open-mouthed
kiss.

But now, there’s Just
the Opposite.