Poem: Tangled

vine grow

Tangled

Inside the foliage a new stalk grows
and twists around the fold of each arm
You touch me with your spring,
embrace me with your summer

We rub together, winding in the wood
When you leave it is
winter’s sun setting too early

Bring back your spring to me.

Let us lie again in soft moss
beneath the shade of summer
     Our limbs a turning vine
     my breasts as berries
     your lips are wine
Thistle milk rolls down our legs
Sap sticks to our fingers like candy

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