The Book of Taurus

We lost ourselves in moonlit marijuana
and jasmine scented escapades.
Each revel was our last, 
so we pawed the grass and snuggled in
for winter. The food was Southern fried 
and drizzled with hot gravy or fudge.
We dressed in Blue or green. 
We dreamed of Venus and Lake Tahoe,
a white flower turning into a wedding dress.
We gave strawberries, other practical gifts, 
special soles for his shoes, a notebook.
He left his handsome soiled imprint 
on my life and nothing else.
I left my bra, Chinese New Year money,
and my visions like tiny emeralds 
shifting poles in the darkness.