It's spring, and streets are melting,
Open up its eyes and look
Into the heavens, their hysterics
Is too much to bear, and laughs,
And shadows, justified mistakes
Won't stop their blubbing in the corner.
Behold! One shift in mood,
Of ghosts of snowflakes to spring
About in the window, and clear-headed
Languid autumn is strolling down the hall,
Coming undone at whiffs
Of first November snow.
I wanted ending, pale, pallid.
And knees, so fraught to hug,
And lean across
And walk away with head
High in the air, and fingers intertwining.
I finished all unwanted explorations,
I tasted tasted pears in your mouth,
Corrupting thoughts, and blood, and sense.
All I can do is find a marble staircase
And kiss the sounds of your footsteps 'night.