It’s the gentle brush of pine
against the bloom of yellow daisies.
The crutch of fallen yucca
in the arms of an oak.

It’s purple lupine petals
that fall on leaves like confetti.
And curly vines that wrap
around a sharp cactus plume.

Something drops, shifts,
bumps into a stranger
in odd combinations of daring duets.

As the jolt of contact wears off
what remains is a kiss.
Another taboo has been broken
in the intimacy of survival.