But the splendor of light reflected from the dew drops.
Eyes like the nebula in heaven that gave you your first breaths.

Some nights I wonder what machinations lie in the vast valley from your neck to your legs.
What fragile barriers between you and the bliss of fingertips leaving craters from goosebumps.

And my palm lit your skin like Hiroshima.
We were lost in the nuclear hollocaust of hearts.

I fought the thought of you making me sober.
-P.S.