She writhes life's fallen branches

She writhes life's fallen branches
in the dusk of Summer's
Ashes, propaganda
flowing March bladed September

flagging precepts cities dwelling
by paradoxes by contradiction
a life in movement
watching clocks seaming metaphors

In a hurry, dusty pollen
flowing ashen protrusions wincing
lime light of flower patterns
towing clouds by breaths intrusion

fashioned beyond muckle life, a dew
of poppies heartbeats ardour
a catch in a dress, glowing pupae
in her hair of a cafe's libertine infusion

Heat's stress blushes her skin
like ripened strawberries, banished to
these meadows where we pollinated
by tonsils, tongues

the taste of flesh on honeyed bones