Bare Poppies

Lemonade
in the garden shed
by myself
on the squishy low bed
flowered mattress.

I seduced the sun into me
feeling hands around my glory.

Bare poppies rub
skin of life
drunken syrup
that hides my bones.

Now I sip lemonade
though my thumb is
wound through a grenade

I set myself free
for the sun
has left me.