hand carved the heart that breathes
southbound to habits pure as ink is blood;
her tall rain hanging heavy on a sigh.
vows made the heaving concrete to a push;
bells ring subordination to the climbing roots of May
as knocks the floating tantrum standing still;
as bland as gold is easy on the eye,
time stands as still as snows the hanging lime
too white the suffocation of it\'s fall
from treasure to the eggplant in a mile;
where now stands time this days\' nocturnal flight?
Saturn\'s glow no longer lights his arrows to the heart;
watch the carousel of curious intent
circle prey while sleeping in a still;
white hare and hungry hound
pounding walls as delicate as thunder
too far away from the gossip and the grass,
water-foul and the un-masked kiss-and-tell;
soon home the ravaged face
snail-paced this walking wound of reminisce;
to fire and the water and bedamned
the slamming doors of midnight in rush
the rushing blood through muscle and the phlegm
to where? who knows, but heaven and the scythe;