Summer Dress

His hand is treacherous
So calloused and large over mine
I can't see – for looking meaning liking;
Clover filled irises, desireless
Without the flesh-toned view
My scythe is broken
Ambition cut down in the flower of arrogant youth
The young die in their dancing
Catching disease like rain drops

Or salt..

Drowning in that thread that dissolves when I sit to sew –
For her,
Desireless love
That pines for my hand; pale
Like that small child Death
White teeth all in a row.
I look for her needle in the dark

And I only taste his finger bleeding in my mouth.