Leaves

In that summer, I discovered leaves,
felt their rough and smooth, drew in
their citrus, amber, indescribable
breath, like a lover sleeping close.

I clothed myself in leaves, weaving
too many shades to learn the names
of parent plants, to dress myself
in rippling green, finer than light.

And I slept deep in leaves, nested
like a mouse, a bird, a lizard, a snake,
the phoenix, rising from burning leaves,
my fire blazing behind summer eyes.