A warming pervasion
In the night and your head
Sends you slipping through the hallways
And leads you back to the bed.
Your garden in twilight;
The seeds have yet to be sown.
Bring pollen to the flowers;
Watch them twist and moan.
Like a thorn between roses,
Love pricks soft but hangs 'round.
Cultivates the harvest;
Feelings pulled up from the ground.
Blanketed by vines
Of passion and mirth;
Heaving and worn down,
You know you’ve proven your worth.
So you slip back to darkness
To wash off the stain,
And wait for the garden
To seduce you again.