I
My mind mostly whispers to me about love,
but talking about it has become
like trying to catch the wind.
Feeling its tantalising fingers
brush through my hair,
like a lover would.
I            must
             can’t
             must
             catch it
but,       it never lingers.

II
I in the sea
I long to see,
my face?
I long for my shadow
to transmute
into your bones;
I long to stop praying
to mortal kings;
I long to see
  your light,
but,            it never lingers.

III
Lovers are,
Nomads;
standing in the desert,
mouthing to each other,
that they are at Sea Levelencased
by sand,
the sea is nowhere in sight,
but they know.
Thus I stand in my desert,
you being everywhere,
though nowhere in sight,
haunted at Face Level --
but, you       never linger .

IV
My mind speaks to me of love,
and the ocean gazes back.

I long to sing your eulogy,
for I despise the mortal kings,
but just like a shiver,
it spills into the wasteland.
Thus I stand mute,
longing for my bones,
to transmute into your
moleskin shadow.

V
We reside
in no-man’s-land;
the slit between reality and dreams
beneath the wet blanket
of nightfall,
rebelling against the incremental seconds.
We lay
unbidden and beckoning,
in naked rooms
that seep of mythology,
dreaming
of existing as flames -
the sole entities
without shadows.

VI
Light breaks upon us; a
vigour from an ancient life
stabs through the air.
Our hearts rise like wheat;
acres and acres
of gold and gold.
And we cultivate,
we harvest.

VII
I watch the sun
melt in your hands
you, blazing flame,
take my hand and
dance me out of martyrdom,
so we can begin our return
our return to
/  b e a u t y /