Tamed Garden

The rush of white-lily teeth against
rose-petal lips makes the gold in your hair
flicker like the spears of autumn grass
beneath your shoes; my teeth
sparkle right back at you in this
slothful garden.

I point,

I am the crispy scarlet leaf whispering
along the soft grit of pavement;
How dare they call me a rose?
I refuse to be stationary, choked by weeds
in the hot summer air,
an insincere promise, appendage of a garden,
to all who venture there.

I am the epitome of autumn; a crimson flash
against the insipid sun sinking into
its barren-branched grave;
I flit aimlessly in this garden,
but I am not its slave.

And you, the muted blue of a cool and languid sky
oh, how we go together perfectly, you and I.

This garden is lovely, with its fragrance of sin and rose,
it can only keep us when we’re in gentle repose.

-amanda katherine