I'm bound by anything
That hums its blood along patchwork makeup in a frame
Reminiscent of peaches.
A quarrel of birds
Refusing to perch here-
Of all places,
Why did you bring me here?
Your lips are no mere distraction
And so wanted.
Cool to the touch, a breeze
With stinging vines
If I am not careful
Or didn't know you'd wound me so.
You should've brought me here sooner
For I always wish to find
Grapes of summer, fruit of fall.
They're now the sweet smell against our heels,
Beckoning the ants.