A One-Time Thing

 Oh casual caress, it tortures and stings
A mess of mud and earth clings to morning,
A tickle of your tongue newly forming words,
The sounds of birds when sunshine sings.

Your lips part and sigh
Tulips opening once, die like “I love yous” do,
Grazing the ears you choose like fresh breath billows
When cold morning pillows of dew dissolve in the sun’s eye.

Passion is quick and fleeting
Springtime, repeating in cyclical fashion withers
Like this love, it deters inevitable decay and loss,
Across time my heart ebbs and sways with this sequence of defeating.