Would you walk with me?
Just For a while
That "line" Mr. Cash
Brought into style
Will you keep the ends up
For the ties that bind?
For me,
Will you walk the "the line"?
For you,
I keep my eyes wide open
All the time
But for me,
Would you walk,"The Line"?
Is it easy
For your heart to be true?
Because I walk,"The Line"
Just For you

Prolog:
Foreplay opens with an aphrodisiac dubbed the mind
caressing private chambers with passion, over time
words stimulating nerve-endings for the ideal tease
like the skin dripping of honey from the nectar of bees
exploiting the fragrances of scented oils and balms
or maybe vib’ing lyrics inducing a seductive calm
compelling forces bombard the intellectual’s sanity
as the proximity of the blackhole distorts humanity

Love’s Play:
Costars entwine heated bodies for love’s embrace
as moments become endless as vectors of subspace
sporadic movements take the form of blissful spasms
while the players combine to mold a single plasm
ringing chimes fulfill the awareness with sensations
too diverse to classify for logical deliberations
yet finally, the mountaintop of cliffs can be reached
where there is no retreat and no return from its breach

Epilog:
Aftermath closes basking from the physical exertion
as two kindred spirits epitomize timeless insertion
gazing deeply into the abyss of the partner’s soul
only to find comfort and compassion ruling the role
can this be the earthly heaven that one truly beholds
written in the historic words as the heavens foretold
feelings ignite once again burning deeply within
opening yet another intriguing act, one must attend.

I take my wine out to the garden
and raise my glass to the moon,
as I often do.
We are old friends.
Trees and shadows play with moonlight on the walk
as people stream by from the park where sun held them all day.
They do not understand why the bright moon
chose me to shine on.

Seven

Our future is like the hopeful light
emanating from the stars of our sky,
for like them, we have traveled
many years to shine here on this day
to appear like two words from a psalm
of David, which when spoken together
become like a prayer under God.

Eight

There's no perfect time to find there's
no time left to perfect. Even with a new
watch I have trouble telling what time it
is without you, you who run like clockwork
precise down to the second, though no so
precisely in my second thoughts.