grecian temples and orange peel

marble sculptures

and splintering columns

heaven bleeding through gaps between stone

and casting golden light

onto the strong jaw of Athena 

 

you wait for me by the pillars

orange on your lips and in melting hues

within your eyes.

 

you braid a marigold in my hair 

(because you say it suits me, or something)

and you hand me 

the rest of your orange - 

 

as i sit on the steps beneath the sunset and

tear into the fruit,

it occurs to me that i see you - 

warm and orange and fiery - 

in the sun when it sinks into the horizon's loving embrace 

and in the marigolds 

that encompass foreign fields with an amber haze