A couple of poems, each sadder than the next

[androgynousluv]

Some people blossom at the first sign of light
eyes upturned in the glow of day
crimson cerulean violet
salutory and grand held in check
by a wandering path--oh yes, every visitor
stares into each barefaced victory
of sun sand shade

Dear heart guide me in
I prefer the hot house
slow-growing, late blooming wonders
you may miss--myster-ious under special care
and not so eyecatching, brillant
hooded and strange, a face a mother could love
but it's the waiting, that blue moon curse
that second-day smell of weeping crotch
wilted and dry, cruel time
yes the waiting does me in the chance
to touch you
just before the first petal
drops

__________________

cut me to the quick/like the sap from my wound