Climbing Trees

Blue abandoned playmates
imagine naked branches
playing in the rain
with rolled up pants
chasing paper cut outs
and drawing adolescent moons.

I was that young once
with thoughts of june
feathered ferns
and flowered tunes

Cartoon realms
know how to forsake
mortal attendance
and strangers bless
the northern sky
in childish limericks.

Ice cream eyes and
candied words
licked butterfat bagels
and strawberry curd.

Sensuality in purity peaks
ripped by
broken branches in
sounds of orgasmic beats;
the nest discarded..