Flesh in the juices of autumn

Forgive the apples for sweetness  

when you wait for fire but I come as the wind.

We both take to forbidden fruit,

quarter our kisses, we share

the flesh in the juices of autumn. Withered

in cracks, fuchsia, buddleia and starflower

grow wild like us, hunched against the rain.

We grasp for treasure and are

 forced to tread water.  It is not so much

 about love as thinking it might be possible 

collecting small change for good causes

as bags of tomorrows ripe chestnuts. 

Forgive the autumn for winter

when you stay in the sun but I come as the cold.

We both shiver in silence, crawl

into hideouts of bracken to gather

the wild plums of my nipples and shield them

from the beaks of the blackbirds and pheasants,

ready to spill the red droplets of love 

We hold pleasure tight for just

 a bit longer. It is not so much 

about waiting as love is possible now

with the knowledge between us

of all the sweet apples of paradise.