Amidst reality of my life two single things remain
inflection of your voice and glow of your tender eyes
held safe by this memory we become transparent rain      
wild as the tidal waves of Bristol souls of no disguise    
fluid as the ocean with are open inlets giving rise  

sepia moments of a little cottage hidden in the cove
the scent of sweet cinnamon and the taste of your clove  
the cackle sound of unseasoned wood against the brick
we ****** the flavors of our passion, and called it love,  
holding on to each other, like flames on a candle wick

molten wax and liquid centers with all I hold so dear  
when the moon comes into view the stars turn into glass
willful moments arching as tender reeds adhere      
we spiral down the staircase, of God's Mandir  
we find the miracle of us, and know that it will last  


caught between two soft spots we are cloaked in silk
like two lovers in heaven or two lonesome sacred elks
amidst the reality of my life, two single things remain
the taste of a kiss and the place from whence we came
you my first love, were always right as rain.

August 27, 2021