Anna is a nesting apple

It is time
birds nest
with new flowers
a fluttering transformation
of fragrant music
male and female
it is not good to be alone
when the bed is made
in a neat compartment of
dry grass.

I have heard the call of your eyes
like rain
and it is Spring
we are filled with seeds:
pistil and stamen thoughts;
you fill my earth with gardens
Love's children roll in the morning grass
Your eyes make languages
our tongues learn to speak,
I have tasted the morning coffee
of your mouth,
licked chocolate from your breasts' angels
held the choir of your face
and wept before your perfumed geometry
I picked apples from your green fingers,
with laughter
our toe roots tickled and tangled
in love's season
we move to the rhythm of
unborn flowers
you melt all my colors
with a radiant fire
naked and pure inside each other
there is no separating
these merging raindrops
no unweaving the flax
tapestries of the sun's playful
kisses.

It is written about this
between us in the ink of our blood
when we love each other
 in love's pressed pages
and ages beyond all seasons