You’ve damned me in roses Those that’ve wilted and death black turned Aged in decay and thornful construct, stabbing at my ribs An abysmal bliss, sharp like a shard of glass, highly specular My reflection free from distress, for I know what this death brings Until the next

I am wilting, I am chlorosis I am senescence in the offing, awaiting the fall

Windswept in Autumn umbra like a dandelion caught in a gentle storm My darkness hiding Foreboding shadows soon allow my draping in light; light of the Sun and your aura’s whisper This fall’s harvest has fed me colors of orange and fern; bleeding into my skin and consumed by words

Night is a barking dog Explosive in its call of darkness Haul of haunches, and belly down Black has fallen now on all fours bounding on feet, foraging around for provisions; the scraps of day’s end, the scent of fresh dreams has it salivating We think it rain We, consumed

How can I breathe and not take in your scent? A marriage of air and essence that fills my lungs with your vaporous ghost.

I watched your smiling image gather in suds. The scent of lemon filled the kitchen as you washed the dishes and I pressed my body into you.

I will never tire of its scent; fresh, healthy grass and soil. I will never stop loving back the wind when it touches me.

Woodsmoke absorbs in every tendril; every strand of my hair, laden in the scent of fire and timber, and I mourn the trees that died.

Midnight's caw; Sound of a crow, Beak to my bones pecking till it reaches my marrow Night wings of a dark bird Folding me in Lovely darkness