poem from muse candy

bird candy

root of my seed,
she’s the fruit of my need,
and the peal of my cry.

i quell the death knells,
in the chimes and the bells,
and i steal the crime sky.

the flower of youth,
and the nectar of truth,
will be cultured relief.

the sleep she will reap,
with a seed heavy breeze,
is a wet dreams’ unease.

she comes rule of thumb,
sighing thigh after thigh,
from a knot i untie.

and by drums she eats plums
when the sugar bird flies
to the tree fruit in pies.