The Stranger

Venus is a sugarcane
Maybe not from where I can taste it
like when all appetites wane;
I did not know our tongues can be fooled

Dear, you are a dandelion
Maybe not from where I can smell you–
I am your red rose of thorns
We both only cruise with butterflies

I’m a cascade in summer
Swigging me dry until I’m a dune
I can only stare to where
the moon is; you never pray for rain

when our wisdom can only
get true, love, is one-way getaway–
we are tea and sympathy
Run into me when we’re out of sight

as I am your myrtle, though
not from where I can be your cocktail–
I am not the earth you sow
but I’m content when you bring it close

to your lips. You can shatter
me like a glass but I’d still be the
pane in your windows; I’m never
the house you built it to be; I am

Venus is a sugarcane,
doubtlessly your Mars when in distress,
put damage on like armor
Maybe not from where I can defend

my territory; you are
a flood in my farmhouse of bygones
Brew me, make me a fountain
of your Dionysus, red as it is–

I’d always make you sober
It is a future we bet
when our wisdom only get
vague, love, is a one-note symphony