Seasonal Infidelities: After Wcw Poem by babitha marina justin

after a winter sprig
of mild mist, moonshine
and drum beats from
the heart of the hills;
a warm gouache of
autumnal-spring
heralds in
whorls of
red, auburn
tawny leaves.
they glide, skate and fall.

those emerald beads
once clung snug
onto my bosom
feel your racing pulse now;
slashing a horizontal tendon on your wrist
scoring an unsavory tale of love.
I smiled, when you looked away,
these beads have captured
your pounding veins
made them mine own.
pardon me,
that was without your knowledge.