Chinese lanterns

These Chinese lanterns in my head
need pruning back. I find the letter,

pressed flower inert –
geranium masks the scent of deceit.

The first time, I fill the bath;
steam mingles with my out-breath;

crackled orange paper
stains my damp body. I find you over

in the ornamental shadows;
the moon waits for our blows.

All the ripeness in me longs
for the breaking of the cage.

(First published in Muddy River, spring 2016, #14)