I want to bathe with our lips in the sea of our kisses,
Luring out the young laughter from the depths of your soul,
Lather the thin foam of the blue poem that is a rose sometimes,
And reconcile your senses to a deep sadness, to the ways of its touch
As though to fish for the ripple, for the boot of your heart,
And wade out your breast, your chest, your tenderness,
Drown fragile towards you, in you, as a piece,
The center, a bait for your blossomlove.*

© 2015 J.S.P.