how does a wild fern grow tucked into the rocks at Whipps Ledges just to take our breath away?

i.

I lick the thought of you
as you slide down my throat
like dark golden honey,
I savor you,
I adore you
I wrap my desire
around the flesh of you
still lingering in my mind

the dance of fire begins,
I erupt in sensations
that yearn for abatement
my arousal is a wicked tongue
of desire, release me
now.

ii.

there's a certain feng shui in my life
without you
living arrangements are pleasing
to the eye and the colours that bleed through
appropriate to the landscape of my solitude;

and if the dark turtle disappeared in our tryst
a green dragon carried us through our dreams,
feasting on the peeling skin of our discovery,

can the red phoenix sting like a scorpion
can the white tiger,
stalking me on padded feet be far behind?
if you do not return
and your god of love, lied?

iii.

the grass needs cutting and the vegetation is lush,
you should see the lilac blossoming; I cut some
white ones and now the scent adorns the room
where I eat alone,
the peony stalks are high,
my love,
strawberries are blossoming and the Japanese lace maple
leaves have unfurled like palms to Allah,
lily-of-the-valley are spreading their heady scent
under the weeping cherry tree, now green,
few petals remain
while the peach-coloured azalea decadently bloom and the
yellow honeysuckle braid cascades,
there are oil stains on the driveway
and the water heater isn't leaking.

iv.

a light filters through the small window
illumines the Boston fern on the first landing
of the stairs to the bedroom,
your imprint no longer in the bed;
I am forgetting what your mouth tastes like
and how my body wept with song when your arms wrapped
around me when we slept
after the days and nights when we fucked like rabbits,
we are hunters
and we were hunted,
we are hungry.

v.

the sun breaks through the clouds
a Buddha smiles
and ten thousand butterflies
are freed
from my obsession

Nataraja dances the seven veils of fire.