scented leaves
( chremamorphism )
crisp ...
you lay like solemn ashes
'neath glass ... spotless, sacred
dried to bright hues ...
the shades of her lips in chill autumn air
(winter, whisp'ring soft)
edges crimped ...
like the hems of her pleated tartan skirt
you are the vestige, precious
of a moment ...
a final moment of love, true
sweaty, sweet passion
that found its confluence under a vault of fire -
a canopy of crumbling crimson
wafting, weaving a rustling woodland blanket
the bed for a callow curiosity
confusing, carnal, but perfectly imperfect
numberless months have yet
ceded to the wind
(as tender as the moons they bind)
since I rescued you from the hood of a sweatshirt
still, your color is unerring
and your scent is ...
her.
~ POETRY AGAINST POVERTY ~
( photographic art created copyright-free by the author with Gemini AI / Meta AI software )
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