The Solstitial

we speak on the shore, tongues lapping
each impulse a leaf on the water careening then swallowed
you were evergreen then
and deciduous I, perfidious I
was born from
shuttered seasons
I shuddered as your fingers mapped these veins
innumerable now
count these veins
and I was red
and upturned
and I hoped you would die
before the springtime
I was red
and upturned
and I hoped you would die
you were skipping stones
toes in the water
when I opened you
and you turned red
and I turned grey
as arbiter wind
buried us in leaves
and there we lay
until the springtime
when melted snow
washed us away