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When first I did see you,
My heart was a drum, beaten,
A fog horn blew out to sea.

When you looked at me,
Stark, true, across blue sky,
Sunshine piercing the clouds.

When you touched me,
Frost thawing at first light,
Misted dews on the heathers.

When you were upon me so,
Could I not but open, bloom,
Softly, wind on the petal.

When your hot eyes got me,
Set smoulder to stoked flame,
Aye, I burned for you.
.
in the whites of our eyes,
no language can interpret,
in the skins of lost bodies,
no soul can birth rich flesh,
in two hearts beating twined,
by all what blight moon shows.

i have walked alone as you,
creeping in avenues so alone,
i have made peace in sorrows,
that you share and i sure know,
we both stride with mists of rains,
white washed by what moon shows.

this world, cast for walking ghosts,
those who know but shadow speak,
avenues trod, unspoken indifferences,
spoke fingers that long for heated touch,
bodies crying need for moist engulfments,
beneath shroud, beams, what moon shows.
.
.
So afar and tall are you to me,
For you are from shining mountains,
Higher than the clouds, your brow,
Darker than the heavens, your hair.

So small and fey am I to you,
For I am but lone whisper in glens,
Slight as one firefly on the moors
And my reflection but a tiny glow.

    Only to spark at edge of pools dark,
    Only to fly when in harnessing arms.

I crossed a bridge to be with you,
The streams slipping times away,
Beneath my girlhood, all in a rush,
Then I entered the deepest wood.

So small and wan was I to you,
For you are from snowy mountains
And I am from rain-watery glens,
For you are portrait and I bokeh.

    One day the woods engulfed me strong,
    One night the bridge I crossed was gone.
.
.
In still morning light,
There is new beginning,
Early birds so joyous,
On wings into the sky,
How the sun is painting
A paradise for my eyes.

I will wake into dream,
On this day so spectral,
I will sing with the breeze
And interpret the songs
Of birds in trees a flame,
Sailing into heavens' dawn.
.
.
The indifferent sky,
Cold as marbled altar,
Starless, plain as scripture
Blasphemed with conviction,
In communion with flocks,
Says nothing about love
Nor trust nor truth nor
Blood offered in cold
Cup of chalice
Only priests
Thirst up.
.
.
Our eyes,
So shy in sun
Want each other,
Yet pretend so strong,
That flesh is ghost shine,
Colour, shadow with sweat,
Body without touch, blood red
As brick in weathers, strained by
Time and fade of photos in old box,

Our eyes see nothing till all is goner,
Youth, beauty, innocence, mists of soul.
.
.
Take this flesh,
Make me unreal,
Let voice expose,
Solidify, delusions,
Let body rule most
In this make up set,
Your beauty shine out
Like light blinding eyes,
Interrogate my soul as it
Vibrates within cell made lit
Like fire caught in cauldrons.
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