Seasons.

The tuft of of lift
like that of ruffles of the
dress
of a spanish tressed
broken into fervor
of a fast beat.
The once, spring
in my staunch walk.

As autumn blew willows
and acorns hardened
in prepare of winter and its
symphonies.

Compilations.
those rain drops that brim within my mouth
as i shut my eyes tight
embracing brevity
trickling down my shoulders
my bosom
cupped between ravines of
the hard of frozen buds
and gravel across its roots
like the shrivel of a nipple.
just like the wholesome taste
of it in your mouth
to the brim.

Winter echoed and whined
the ghosts
whistled past the
white flowers
adorning the cleft of the
bushes on the right.


Swiveled scorched
in the bright of the radiance of sun
following her soap soaked feet
into the womb of hot sand
like crabs biting toes.
just small baby ones
that get crushed
because its for you.
thats when summer flocked
upon the hem of a skirt
shriveling them to unravel
stockings
that teased from beneath.

The blackest of rain
turned purple
after crimson dowsed it
to the grey of time
and then simmered a purple.
The Purple of timeless stains
embedded in a classic snapshot
of black and white
under the Eiffel like light house
shwooshing through the air
all its brilliance in the reflections
of it in the water
the same
over which rocked our boat
as you row'd
us to the shore.
The only shore with the light
that shines.
In little twinkling lights
in your eyes.
Of corsets and coffee shots
that followed.
In the moist dew
on hay of pure viscosity.
We floated, oh did we?
And only clouds could
tell, how it felt
to carry the light heart
weighed down and set free
by love.

By Jove, How
is this.
But a tale of Eos and tryst.
In hymns and chants
of the october rust.

And in lieu
Karma, is burst.

Lets live those seasons.
That as I walk everyday
through death,
remember,
that, its this dream
in my realities,
that I pine.
That keeps me
walking through
dirt
falling apart in it
each time
and ingrained
as sea serpents
un-entwine
from beneath
the churned waves
of an eternal splash
in emerald oceans.

A cacophony of distant
exotic bird whistles
echoing through opacity
of water
diminishing
as fishes gurgle into my nostrils
of secrets of the pearl.
Beneath and bequeathed
between
the most feminine of flesh.

And as I lost breath inside
my face in
a large bowl
of iced water.

This wait.
Won't be long.
These seasons.
Will pass.
Just live.
This time like
the last was divine.