Lavender

Every time she is kissed lavender

by sweet plastic licks on her fingertip,

seize her breath to cease, end her

with a meaningless smile, surrender

to lilac chains of clover that grasp, grip,

every suffocating second kissed lavender.

From her shoulders cling straps so slender

heavy violet violate, oppress the crown of her hip

to certainly seize her breath. End her

as she begins. Catch time and mend her

absolute state of imbalance. Watch it drip,

drip, as she is swallowed lavender.

She finds freedom in the tender,

unreliable, imperfect art. Her lip

parts for a willing kiss to end her

breath. In stillness, she is a defender

of worlds so slow and delicate they slip

through times she is kissed lavender.

She seizes the breath that would end her.