Come now as the Spring Breeze
Kisses our pale flesh
As we lie post union.

Feel the moment
Feel the ship of time
Watch as it crawls forth
From passions depth less harbor.

Raise your head to the light
My night child
My pretty
My darling
My sweet

As cool spring breezes
Brush over us with their lips
Golden and bright
In the afternoon sun.

In the golden, afternoon sun.

Lay here a while
Rest.

Feel it now
Feel it soft
Feel it blow over our embrace
Whilst soft toned breezes
Stretch the time we hold
In the palms of our baby-skinned hands.

Hush my love
Hush your heart
Stay a moment
Feel those cool kisses
Planted fleetingly on the naked canvas
Of skin
As these tides ebb and flow
In time with our blisses.

Touch it now
Softly glancing
As our hair is sent
Rippling
Like tides on the cool ocean shore
Of time-pregnant moments.

Impregnate out skin
On every lazy Sunday
Since the shared time began
Between Cupid and Psyche
And the coals of Hades
Cool softly
In the spring breeze.

Lay here a moment.
Rest.

Lay here with me.

Sweat infused with sweat came riding upon the soft night breeze, sliding through the ebony air; bringing with it the scents and perfumes of faraway and exotic places. The continent of Us where union was shared and passion blazed through the rolling waves that lapped and endured with the temperate tides at the beach of Now.

And how the tall trees shook and rocked as the churning wind rushed through them; clinging from it intoxication for our senses, sensual pollen released. Released…released.
In the broken silence of Monday night, the incensed symphony of sound and sweat and passion and desire, the unbroken breath of truth begged upon hands and knees for us to realize its beauty. Simplicity and instinct. Ah that depth to which we sank with stones tied to our decorum; and how relaxed we were to sink to that ocean, upon the beach of Now; the western coast of the continent of Us.
Parting from these natural shores, eyes ever westward we sailed to the peninsula of Dream on the angel-wing blown tempest of Sleep; whence we found ourselves clinging to the memory of that soft, lost land of Us. Where a moment is a lifetime and will not allow us to pass unscarred, unmarked and taunted for it will often blow its breeze so we never forget. And never forgive the time spent upon the beach of Now.

Now a memory as precious as a pearl.

There are creeks which shade made lesser cracks of
That spread as hands and ants up antique walls.
I brush those holes and think:
What breath have you spent?
What death have you seen?

They doused the lamps
and sent the realm into darkness.

The purest black we did ever see.

No street, nor home, nor lovers eye burnt.
Nor did the stars or the keenest minds
For they both shone dark.

And the realm sat hushed-
Silent and revered
Round the patter of words
that came as rain.

As the beat of rain
came as poetry.
And the realm sat round
the new fire.