She decorated
her pain and her misery
with red fallen leaves

life choices cast in iron skillets,
presented choices that possess no flexibility

twice, she asks me today

morning fruitage, on offer,
peaches ripe to rip real sweet perfection
from your eyes to the remembering salivating mouth,
or
sweet but just **** enough
strawberries that will wince your tongue buds
intolerant of either, but perfect together

acorn squash,
over roasted to be the violin section
to your barbecued chicken orchestra serenading,
but which shall be the sweetener,
honey or maple syrup,
similar but different

the kitchen floor explosive shakes,
pans to the floor fall, eyelet unhooked all,
spices from cabinets burst forth,
kitchen mittens slapping each other
in utter disbelief

when I reply,
let us choose both!

for there is no bifurcation,
no line of demarcation
on our taste buds
this a truthful -
our lives a perpetual blending,
both will login lead to a
the right and proper ending

We're loose associations.
Brutality queues the phrases.
Reality loses luster,
in fallow with boot to daisies .

Cowering and embracing
our trusted tomes,
honing a fruitless joke,
that only touches on tones that suit the layman

Famous and clueless faces.
Racing to rue the cadence.
Faking a sweet embrace,
for imminent tears, but grew impatient.

California coos
sooth impostor fits,
but it's a syndrome
fifty shades dense,
and way to thick to fit the staples.

In case you were getting wayward;
our guiding fables,
sentinels that they are,
will guard the stables
and bark orders,
pouring out the spirits
and clearing history,
with brazen logic.
Honestly,
I carved a broken heart,
instead of tapping the maple,
sue me.

the fuzz to your hair
is too soft for its share
your bags, the creases of your eyes
are pink like rising skies
the freckles about your arm dance about my heart
they look like stars
your eyes are bright; they're fireflies
too beautiful to contain to jars
and
your lips are purple
taste of spearmint and maple
the crease of your brow smiles with your face
not a single trace of a laugh line
but
you laugh like the ocean
first, your laugh is calm
but as it approaches the shore
it is sure to swallow me whole
your smirk, though half
makes me whole
and
your lips are purple
taste of spearmint and maple

Umber maple leaflets dwindle
Dance amongst my barren feet
Past the field of roses flourish
Roots entangle underneath

Rest my soil in golden hues and
Let them bloom in greatest pride
As the sunlight carries on and
Deftly strokes their thorny spines

And as the moon howls
The reaper sows and
Harvests many plants alike