teeth sink on the stick
the taste of cherries
a sweetness that underwhelms
and evaporates in the movement
of passing cars
did you ever see the sign?
sent over the sky
a bow pulled back
and let go the rains
to overflow
the taste of cherries is getting old
the salt of the sea calls
a pungent sinking like sands
and footprints erased by tides
my love i couldn’t think of a good lie
i sink my teeth on my finger
i imprint a strange pain
a bitterness that overwhelms
and burns with the movement
of a passing sun
Early Dew of Morning 