Saw dust and mite bites
in the dense timber
on the edges of the table
A palatable depth
of the horizon where we dined
Sew bursts and kite sites
A verily unpredictable place
where arms mate and meet
A past of days afloat
in the braveness of our years
A display of rosy petals
where the coal embers
and the gas runs out of meter
The hour where we stand closer
beneath the mirage of a day dream
On the other side of the continent
Where you die
On the other side of the bed
Where you vow
On our side of our story
Where we hold and go deep
On different sides of the world
Where miles imbue
Underneath the covers
Where the ice stew
On our side of the day dream
A space where we ******
