The stepping stones
crossing boundaries
exchanging homes,
hanging on by a thread.

If I'm to be dead
I will live on
in the rising waters
when the stones have gone.

Lick my lips
she slips right in,
is this where
the beauty of
life begins?

Kiss me later
kiss me soon,
kiss me under the
sparkling moon
reflected on the
stepping stones where
the light
hones
my appreciation.