Almonds Intoxicate

By Angela Bingaman

Like the shape of your eyes
Equally as well as cinnamon, the color of your eyes
That bewitch.
Cinnamon simmer
And our fragrance
Is made known.

I have heard
They harvest wild rice
By hand, skimming,
Riffling the waters
For chocolate colored seed.
Thyme goes slowly now,
Long-grain rice takes time
To soak and cook.
And the grains,
Do they fall between fingers
Or come and settle,

By the wall, set in thyme, I sat,
Tired from tending
My garden of the golden heart,
On the other side of the wall
What say you?
Does your tending leave you
Too little thyme /to court?

Tear it down,
Tear it down,
Tear down the wall
For I shall not wait.
I cannot wait;
My heart awaits,
My heart awakes
From a cloven slumber.

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