Oranges and Lemons
Choppers
that choose flower heads
to chop off,
should stop while music
still plays.
Love outlives your cutting,
hot heart heaving
until life’s final cut.
Even when
you stand above my grave,
you will
feel me aching in your bosom,
while chucking
dirt at my wooden box
as I peer up
via salt and pepper locks,
blink blind
penny tears from my eyes,
never truly
gone. In love, still crying out
that I
became you and you became me,
through the
looking glass; it’s you I see
staring
back, imprinted there for eternity.
I’m branded
invisible on your full breasts,
feel my
hands there, my first tongued kiss
to my long
last hot shivering caress.
You’re on
heat; the sun still beating,
lime lemons still
continue their ripening
green to
gold, oranges swelling to burst,
for we will
always for each other thirst
unquenched. Drenched
finds you smiling,
tears will
from nowhere fall uninvited
from shadows.
Thoughts stray, excited,
exploding fire
when you least expect
by touching
yourself in passion’s regret,
coming
together in dreamed pleasure.
Now look at
me lover. We’re first bliss
sought as morning
dawns and last kiss
thought as
we’re cradle rocked asleep,
we hunt each
other in dreams so deep
in
Demetrius, are you even yet awake?
Where
oranges are hearts, lemons heads,
then to the
winding river we must be led,
to oncoming
day when we make choices;
oranges and
lemons to be given voices.
We both are
drawn to it. Those old paths
trod
together in love, together laughed,
in joy with
shared words on future pages
thumbed hard
inside you, yet now in ages
get behind
us, do we return there in hope?
Trust in the
strength of love’s binding rope.
Lemons sour
memory, but oranges repent:
Love’s river
wash clean at old St Clements.
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