As I Dream The Shapes Shift Into Petals or Of Cloves, but...

All of my women,
The tinted halves of faces,
Beautiful and decadent;
Lost in love’s hollows
All the same.

I see them in my nighttime dreams,
And in the corners of the streets
I walk about when it is late,
And lovers’ company would be
The perfect way to end the night.

At some or other time I left them,
Or they left me, it's all the same.
Arms outstretched were pulled back in,
They disappear and I begin to
Purge and search for newer flowers
Freshly woven in the first of sunlight hours.

But O my women gone;
Those red rouge specters
Smiling wide,
Sweetly touching with their tongues
The outer sinews of my soul,
They haunt me softly
When I’m sleeping all alone.

Often do I wonder back
To walks along the riverbank,
And in the car below the bridge,
And in the beds of theirs and mine.
How we teased each other so.
Promises flung into the night air;
Gentle tastes, saccharine and brine,
And my arms still reach out
When they are not there.

They will come and they will go.
Time is surely going to solve
The problematic things of love.
So long as I remember
Not to be
This way forever.

However will the hover of love go passing by?