Uttered

I had seen in part and that year
    after the snow had fallen,
then melted;
when in
        the dead of night,
        the draught like golden
opened,
                            I awoke and
                                    knew in full,
 the fragrance riding in with force
                                                                   against all aureate
designs.
My resignation came much later,
 stretching in shades,
 as my
sight improved.
 To
      test the

theory,

I offered you a drink.
You indulged and
       returned to self.
In falsetto trill, you willed me gone,
climbed walls like vine, reveling in the
        sugared relish of hovering demise.
You left
                                                    me no choice.
Stories, incomprehensible, tainted vows,
and I
fell into a summer bliss.  I felt
         the revelation first, viewed
         the molting of your words,
 the nothing left, slithering
between the bloom.
The end
                      of secret
                                 things.

Write at the Merge