an onion
the more in deep I peel
back the layers the more
I weep as sap on the tree

You’re like
a porcupine
the more I touch you
the more I’m poked
by the spines that line
the stuff covered up
in smiles and dust

You're like
the boards
on my deck
you splinter
in the coldest winter
leaving me stuck
as a hunted down duck

You're like
the trees in autumn
you bloom golden and crimson
having me imprisoned
with the bouquet
only to blow away
and then leave me barren
as a miscarriage