Bitter Tea

Childish thrones and childish thorns and I
,a child myself,
affected by your modest offerings
placed your beauty on a shelf too high for me
for I, so little,
loved you with my childish love:
deep and dumb and never ending-
heady mead in tiny cups.
Still, some part of me remembered
care should find due care in kind
and put you out of reach
to save my careless, restless
childish mind.
Even though you overwhelm me;
petal skin and kitten claws and
churchbell laughter-
all the things that make you lovely aren't enough.
Your lovely mind and lovely body
fill with need my childish heart
which knows no bounds and no defenses :
quickly captured, quickly cut.
But if I harden all my senses-
if I save my tiny self
I see that place where claws can't reach me
High up on a distant shelf.