Sweat beads on well ploughed thoughts
Locked hair sighs gentle as a sopping crown
And we,
We lie together.

Tell truths, tell stories
Of beggars like millionaires
And you and I concurr
With the slapping of skin.

Whilst inky pools of prowling giants
Tread canyons in the world around
And worries scuttle
Along the dust and wooden floorboards, cool to the touch

Whilst fever hands us telescopes
To see the only cooling hand is you
I sweat and turn
To stamp your cheek with my smile.