What A Year For Lilacs
What a year for lilacs this has been
For hyacinths, for purple iris, all
Promiscuous, as louche
As rhododendrons, like long hair undone
Like just too much
Décolletage with hints of lace.
Imagine us running through fields of violets
Our bare feet amethyst with them
And falling down together in their
Blowsy swelling bosom
Our breaths fast and loose
And spicy with desire.
And afterward, imagine this:
I'll kiss your wine-sweet lips
Your cheek, the cleft between your breasts;
I'll make you lace of violets and bring
Lilacs by the armload, ...