Jaded cyan
were the shadows that sat and shriveled
(as hollowing rings)
under those downward eyes
like mildly pressed flowers
in dusty old books
Radiant hues
captured blushing in mental photographs
of crossing fingers by a tender flowing stream
(from an untroubled spring)
where they harvested budding gemstones of light
from dancing fields of lavender beneath the mountain
Lavished mulberry
were the plum tree branches that crept
(as throbbing veins)
around those half-moon eyes
like hot blood trickling
under sun dazed skin
Emerald spirits
intertwined in a physical vineyard
of limbs they recklessly tangled
(from an unseasoned summer)
where they felt the stirrings of revolutionary ardor
from expanding train tracks behind the mountain
