of deserving

let it be said

i was deserving of a season

that gave of itself selflessly

an autumn

indiscriminate in its devotions

loving in the shedding of its leaves

gusts of vermilion ardency

surrounding me

temperatures bowed in worship

giving frantic shape to breath

amid the abiding fragrances

of fresh tobacco

clean linen, cardamom

a season

crisp as bitten apples

brisk as a rendezvous of lips

where harvests akin to rhapsody

yield without consequence

 

let it be said

i was deserving of a tree

that gave of itself selflessly

a sycamore

adamant in it’s immensity

intimacies unfurled

in the bend of perennial limbs

a fortress of cherishing

rugged boughs resembling ladders

deliberate in their beckoning

to climb

an arbor where I might drape myself

in delirious positions

legs splayed in the consummation

of daydreams

breasts indented by it’s hardened bark

a cypress

harboring convalescence

of rare birds and their nests

lulled to sleep in endless avarice

 

let it be said

i was deserving of a sky

that gave of itself selflessly

a torrential

in April

a. duncan, on the last day of 2018

 

 

Photography by Marta Bevacqua

 

 

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Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus || Love is rich with both honey and venom

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