My Lover Worships Gaia
crystallized dawn reflects in the water droplets
streaking his skin. he sinks to her knees and presses
his nose to the mounds of moss, flowering
under his touch. his sunrise beads on her lips.
the morning is on her breath. he loves the
dewy innocence between her thighs, but even more
the heady scent of the pear blossoms that open
in the palm of his hand. a musky perfume of springtime.
they taste new flavors at the banquet of earth. he teaches her
how to pick sourgrass and she teaches him how to thread
the pistils of the honeysuckle flower just so that the nectar
drips down his throat. they’ll return the favor with their bodies.
she picks for him all the red berries on the bushes and
traces his lips with sugar before he tips his head
back to let it bloom on his tongue. together, they
drink dappled sunlight from warmed camellia leaves.
she cracks the pomegranate open above her head
and he feeds her the seeds, staining his fingertips a
trembling magenta. later, when she kisses them, she
tastes herself, the coppery, bodied flavor of release.
Andy VanDoren is a queer, synesthetic poet inspired by natural phenomena. Themes of their work include abstracting reality and unreliable narrators. Through poetry, they paint pictures of how the world looks from inside their mind. They are published in Ghost Girls Zine, Celestite Poetry, and the Field Guide Poetry Magazine. You can find them on Twitter @raggedypoet