I. For whenever Emily may find

What an organdy,
pressed dream,
rain-smoked burgundy in crinoline
than the cloth.
Softer streets empty I displayed,
past wandered down
the tripping ways
alley heard as I walked down
the cathedral bells.

And your cheeks love with the honey
when you frosted and I awoke.
Fields kissed your hand and juniper walked with tears.
The grateful girl felt flushed
and oh you love my hair,
I held the night warm and near.
And oh I ran!