.
In the open,
Sun alight and in flame
Makes us bare
And we suffer alone.

In the daylight,
Sun addresses our calm
Colours us black
And we shuffle our skin.

In the outdoors,
Your eyes are blinding mine
And sight is cold
As we suffer alone.

I once loved you
And you probably loved me
Out in the open,
In sun that desecrates.

There was a rose I saw once bloomed,
Cuddled in stone yard garden, set free,
To fire in midsummer fields maid loom,
On the village path that ends by the sea.

The wind dances with you in the sun

O rose of happiness and of sorrows,
My heart is in bloom as you are true,
I love a boy so grand and unknowing
And I have no words, or song, or tune.

My heart sings with you in the sun

Little wee flower, who danced me away,
My dear companion, for a soul set free,
Nestled within walls of stone on parade,
Till one morn gone on a walk to the sea.

*Winds and my heart break in the sun

.
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.
.

Faces forlorn, one frozen moon,
Eyes of mine, but clouds of stars,
Sea shells are pale, fairest debris
And not a neckless you once gave
To me, the ocean is a muddy flood,
A container for tears, rain without end
Even the sun in sky is small without joy,
Even birds in flight leave, not enthralling,
And scattered pines that line the moors,
Are lost to shivers in the dark wide opens,
Little things are all about, surrounding me,
Little things reminding of us, hounding, see,
Small wee things are in coldness and queer,
Little things mounting each day of the years,
O how little things alight were once so dear.

.
My dress, sheer as blood
Under light, falls so soft,
Your fingers, stone hard
And pointed as the sun,
Free me from cold body,
I loose as my dress, fallen
And my spirit, bare, fresh
As the lighted moon, quakes
Without sound.  

Touch me  .  .  .
My prince, rake my nudes
With tooth and lip, smell
My breaking waters living,
This spring is autumn, live,
Like a pool shudders in rain,
My skin kippering in cloud
And my *** unleashed from
Shroud, you, my man are all,
I wake in a garden full, ripen,
Of leaves and old embracings.
My springs, eternal sprouting
From a source, branch to earth
Spend me, my Lord, fire me up.
.