You are gems--your
hair November citrine dripping
sunspots through my fingers--

Your eyes--October moments--white
with opals coursing forth onto

The threads of rubies in
your cheeks from
pinkish burns of mid-July.

I'll kiss your toes in our
December when they turn
to chilly icicles of--

topaz--Blue and shivering against
my lips that long to warm you.

Cherry blossoms are the
diamonds that spin
spirals down your spine
while April breathes--

--a hundred garnet prayers enfolded
in your sapphire hands.