the pavement mulched purple riotous
jacaranda give up the glorious
ghost and lorikeets rootle
their denuding branches
late in season
the heat a chess game
ante meridiem Scholar’s Mate
the sandstone breathes porous
city twitches
what is this thing
the leaking tap
you open in a gush
the hot snake of the train glints
in my throat vibrato
I am green electric
leaves of glass and
in your arms I think of synonyms for colour
the tree gestures through the window
when you’ve left for work
and I doze
more than purple
I want to kiss you mauve and lilac
I want to kiss you mulberry and wine
your forearms and your suprasternal notch
are like that finger of pleasure at
the exquisiteness of unexpected
for two months at the end of Spring. 

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