Pollenless

A foul taste

has replaced

sugar sweet saliva;

Sheer deception

displaced mine

hatred

she smeared my tactile

campaign!

Her brain is full of cobs and dust

and what of mine?

I am full of contempt,

logic . . .

disdain!

Blinded by the saddness of logic,

the Temptress moves akin the wind;

gut wrenching pain has struck,

again.

The reasons actuate,

more so an’

surpassing seasons!

Autumn leaves crack to chip

lost beneath;

freezing to the pavement.

I cannot slow the steady rate

which dissolves

in names;

for the Temptress moves akin the wind.