Sugarcane smile, lithely pressing me into
corners and lifting my coat ends;
pulling soft, like a breeze,
letting all the tremble in my knees
breathe and plead. Sweet,
lucky star child that I clutch,
you touch, like a robin’s wing;
you come only in spring and when the
oak’s lose their dark green you leave.

Haunting, resting notes upon
end tables and stamping your scent
over everything I imagine,
you here, when I am not,
shaking all the house plants with your walk,
blossoming them with your blithe
talk. I make, and shiver out love poems
and banquets and bedroom dances
that get you close to my ear
so I may hear your ginger lips.
So befitting every dress, every strand of
hair; without flaw you fall down over
me and you do swear, do laugh in your
heaven-ish air how you wished
for sunbeams but
found a black hound that reminds you of
the night. Alright, you, fine flattering fae,
you’ve stolen the dark and spread out
all the day, like silk butter over
charred bread.

I kiss your head, and I take your
hand and wed myself to your one fair
finger. You cup your mouth over mine,
and like wine, I tumble drunk in love.
Bunny bud, you make me fonder of
starlight and all above.

© Copyright A. Marie Kaluza 2015

This poem is featured in The Red Robe – you can get it here for the price of only $4.99