Rose bud ears, how the tips turn pink with the sun blushing behind them.
How birth and beauty travels by word of mouth when the lush petals
Open their lips in wordless bloom, hot sun spots, and
Kiss a trail down your neck where the heels of the Goddess of Spring
Sinks, marking moist sand, parting the lapping waves.
How they surge forward, sent like beached husks and the shards of
Glitter from corals that have buoyed towards the call of the
Blazing sunset that is smeared into your milky nape. A hot stripe
Draws out a shudder that spills the glitter from your marrows.
It is obvious and endearing. How easy.
The far fields are speckled with colour peeking at me
Shyly from beyond sloping shoulders, a child waving
At the belt of traffic jam through the rear window. You have given me
Sparklers for my fingertips and I wave back. Even as they
Sputter their last light, in the shattering glow of shadows,
I can see the pliant fingers of a blush touching your cheeks,
And everything is so obvious I wonder how I could have missed it
The first time.
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