confession

 

near the greenhouse

the hive was being smoked

 

soothing the bees

gorging themselves on honey

 

the garden pale as a powdered queen

in waning light

 

eve’s darkness growing

like ivy across the fence

 

the teeth of humidity bearing down

on us like childbirth

 

turning, i remember saying,

i don’t wear blue much, but—

 

noticing your sea-filled eyes

decided i could

 

just this once

 

 

© 2025 jennifer wagner

 

shay’s word garden word list

 

taliesin, west

where the ocotillos rise

and the desert breeze

winds around the branches,

 

where the honey-essenced mesquites

perfume the sand

licked up

in the sonoran drift,

 

i sway here, too—

waiting for you,

twisting just a half smile

until you come,

 

your hair smelling like pine,

and mine

like shadows

coming out into the sun

 

 

© 2025 jennifer wagner

photo (me) © 2025 ian wagner 

 

the color of us

 

photo © jennifer wagner

let’s share this together,

valentine,

 

petals

more

than

deep blush

 

at your sip,

at my touch

 

see how

we’ve changed

the color

of us

 

yellow sunset to

crème de violette,

 

turn me

scarlet,

valentine

 

your elderflower,

my honey,

mix better

than wine—

 

let’s

take our time,

no rush,

 

moonblue to

citrus spice—

 

cool,

until touched,

 

see how

we’ve changed

the color

of us

 

 

© 2025 jennifer wagner

 

 

a little mixology for my valentine (of 27 years!)

at dVerse “from your valentine”