With eyes, like owls - great horned or a night cat's
his arms, tree branched, heavy laden, strong
with legs, sturdy pillars for mountains climbed
hair of silken silver brushed upon my skin
his essence, forged by nights and wildfire pines
his reddened lips, softly melting into mine.

I wish I could scrub my veins clean
of the tar and memories
I would scrape the sides clear
of everything you whispered in my ear
all lies, cliche
I hate feeling this way

Even as we danced,
there was no echo
of lovers lost...

The lake
was as a sheet of
glass that I thought would
crack
if we lost
a step.

The music
was the rhythm
of our hearts,
slow, but fierce
calm, but alive.

I taste the tearsdrops of
the heavens
bathe me in serenity.

I've known beauty,
but never perfection
not before this moment
melted my heart
and spread it like butter
over her love.

Yet, in the quiet
rapture,
there was a darkness.
Heartache troubled the
solace of the dance.
I drew back the blackened veil
and to my surprise
I found myself...
my identity...
buried for too long
in the misery of
flames of ire.

It was then
I knew
she
I would cherish
with abandon.

I stared
into her gentle eyes
I held
her trembling hand
I kissed
her doughy lips
and I loved
like sorrow
eclipsed.

It's been days out
in the desert
in the no-end
summer
when I wish
now was
then
and then was
always
keeping up with
later