I

As sarcoline shades drip
from the framework lingering
on our lips, like naked nymphs,
we condense into smaragdine colors
that blend with byzantium blues of
a Claude's painting

my brows bend over
his cordovan hues and
forge masculine arches
on the crestfallen, quartzite constellations
of his cheekbones;
he wove aubergine angoras
that replaced salacious, sarcoline
dots the dripped while we
waltzed to the whispers
that dipped tourmaline harvest moon






to





shame


II


He breathed on the brunneous
strands that I inked upon a
sarcoline sky, and kept on
expanding like my ribcage,
famished for the fervor
that evaporated from his lips;

I hiccupped the eburnean
sighs and mosaicked memories
of his romance, perching fulvous
fairy tales that kept pink plonking
like the moans of cherry blossom
in the air:

it was this symphony
that kept me from






daydreaming
over a night..


III


Summer pours in tangerine tones
above our eyes that are lovesick;
From tulips to shooting stars,
we blush from dusk till dawn--
While cherry wine hibiscus smears
the love notes inked on his chest
and
hides on my toenails, nurtured
by acrylic Mozart of our
sunset secrets


he snakes his arms around me,
catching memoirs of falling hues
as we wait for the winter, when our stars would blossom





again..