agressive regression

Every now and then
I feel the urge
to be babied.

no such flower

I was afraid
my flower would
w i l t
but there was no
such flower
to begin with.

peach after storm

the peach has revived
after the storm has gone.

olives and rain

As the frigid
summer-rain
seeks warmth
in the lamp-light
my fingers melt
in the waves of your
hair and
the gaze of your
olives pierces through
my soaking
hair.

squares

On the rim
of these countless
squares I
linger
even as this
stream of
blueness strives
to carry me
away.

scent

Your eyes lie
and your ears fear
but your nose
knows.