the sun is wine,
round in my stomach,
shrill in the beaks of birds.
clover muddles your fingers,
muddles your teeth and breath
and skin. you are only
a spot in the trees.
planted among trillium,
stalks thickening your limbs,
my limbs dappled.
i taste summer
all through you.
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 7:39 PM UTC
the sun is wine,
round in my stomach,
shrill in the beaks of birds.
clover muddles your fingers,
muddles your teeth and breath
and skin. you are only
a spot in the trees.
planted among trillium,
stalks thickening your limbs,
my limbs dappled.
i taste summer
all through you.
i hope you missed me. written april 14th 2012.