My lover is not that handsome

my lover is not that handsome
and he has quite a temper
but who will paint my sky
in the dark afternoon purple
if I let him go not to come back
my lover has burning lips
and a row of sharp teeth when with laughter
he replies to the challenge of the world
my lover has a mouth which rises
as a crescent over each of my nights
my lover is not tender his eyes
dance in the street's rectangle
he lights a flame in girls
clutching his shadow
I hold my love by the hair
in his shadow a frail blade of grass blossoms
into an April appletree