It was as a branch in bloom I sought your support.
The golden serpent of my evils
circled by your whimsical whites
with the invading softness of a treat.
Subtle steam rose from the limo
sulfurizing autumnal inks
of the West, and shone in the grape arbors
the burning transparency of the cluster.
Feeling that blue impelled us
to something of God, your mouth with mine
joined in the bright afternoon,
under the deciduous satyr of plaster.
And like a miraculous belt
I rose hanging from your kiss.