No sundial’s gnomon could cut this air before—  
the dial long-slept, moonlight glows, lines our palms,
its grip of frost, its calculus we tore,
until our spines aligned, unguarded—warm.

The gnomon’s scorn now bends to our skin’s dawn—
its frost-etched law undone by breath’s slow rise.
Our shadows fuse as Brahms unwinds the calm,
rewriting fate in tongues that flesh denies.  

The gnomon’s edge, once steeped in solar lies,
now bends to taste the salt along our throats,
its calculus of light a husk, takes flight—
a butterfly that drinks what dawns promote.

Let ruins chant the creed of numbered skies—
our pulse, a clock that dares to harmonize.

You unscrew the jar; Orion’s climactic sigh spills—  
A cello’s low A hums—our triad, C and E—the night skies.  
Your thumb caresses pulse down my throat, andante, it drills  
through myth—not his hunt, but the damp heat between our thighs.  

We’ve plucked Lyra’s rusted chords, restrung her spine  
to thrum with your breath, not some dead muse’s cords.  
Stars crack like old records; we skip, we refine—  
our bed, a cradle for light, shed our sheer white peignoirs.  

You fear the jars dim? Let me mouth the black core  
of Cassiopeia—choke her brittle groan,  
then laugh as you arch—my crescendo, your score—  
each note a plum’s burst where her language had flown.  

Your teeth score my shoulder. The dark soars, unconfined—
We swallow the arias. Let the void choke on mine.

Your breath, a silken whisper, feathered sigh,
A sweet note kissing, melting at my breast.
Soft fingers trace where tremors swell and fly,
The night's own song, our glistening body's quest.

Wind unhooks window latch—waves of storm crest
As trembling hands unhook lace—sway freely, all doubts.
Cool air fingers our moist bodies— caressed
Night rain spills secrets, our open lips—pout.

Scent of our love, petrichor, a musky earth perfume throughout.
Our windows slowly open, yielding to love’s refrain
Her love, a monsoon’s gail, I’m parched without—
Souls stripped to root by air’s cool, lashing reign

Through open windows, Gaia’s Haven breathes—
Her throat our cries, Her ribs the wreath they weave

Without her, I am a lone wave cast adrift,
Where salted winds and whispers lure me more;
Her water, lost love, remains my soul’s true gift,
Recalling nights of bare skin, on earth-warmed, shore.

I sense her rhythm in the ocean’s score,
A chord of flesh and salty tears allure;
Her pulse, a tide that bids my soul restore,
In lustful waves where dreams and desires endure.

I, the lone wave, feel her touch in every surge,
Where breezes hum on dunes with whispered care;
Her love flows, andante, in rhythms we emerge,
A salt-kissed ballad breathed on coastal air.

Thus, in my depths, her water, a sonnet farewell,
Gaia’s Soothing Haven mourns love’s endless swell.

A naturist, I shed the day’s tight notes—  
My flesh unbinds as cello strings softly sway
The bath exhales a vapor-softened throat,  
Its liquid song dissolves the stress of day.

You breach my silence while my fingers play—
No words, just layers pooled where footsteps passed.  
The water hums a frequency unchained,  
Your back rests softly, knows my ******* are cast.

Your fingers trace my folds, our tones slowly grow—
A throbbing drone our mingled pores now greet.  
The soundscape swells where flesh begins to know
The crush of solitude our heat completes.  

The water cools, yet still our bodies own  
Two silences embraced by undertow.

We stand unrobed where daylight splits the air,
Her thighs a bramble, mine are smooth and spare.
The mirror's glare reveals what we both share:
One breast a plum, its twin a rounder pear.

Time’s cursive scrawls on skin we’ve learned to bare—
Her stretchmarks ripple, tides, my palms embrace.
No clues hide the faint silver in her hair—
My thumb traces the laugh-lines on her face. 

Past phantoms fade—two clocks now beat as one.
Her skin, once chilled, now thaws beneath my sighs;
My stony silence ripens into sun;
Time-frozen hearts melt in each other's eyes.

Your mouth—a fig split ripe—now drinks my moan:
We fuse to one fierce sun, no dusk, no dawn.

Her hair spills starlight, raw as unbaked bread— 
Each strand a comet’s trail my lips pursue.
No thread divides our skin, risen on breath;  
Hips hide her crescent moon, eclipse the blue.  

The mirror drinks us whole—no blind, no hidden clues— 
our doubled forms a psalm of breath and flame.  
Sound of skin on skin, a tide, laps where desires subdue;
Your fingers chart the pulse-light, vane by vane.  

No shadow lives where tongues chase the day—  
her wetness, a prism, splits what dark ignites.  
The air grows thick, our love scent we can’t unsay—  
Each gasp refracts to hues where her desires lie, night.

Your eyes—black pools where all my shadows drown—  
we fuse to one eclipse, no dusk, no dawn.

Beneath the swirling veils of gas and flame,  
Their bodies pulled by gravity’s caress,
A nebula ignites, they feel no shame,
Each touch a star reborn through tender dress.

Shards of old stars, a haunting adultress,
Drift as stellar winds, secret lust explore,  
Their whispers spark, a heated, molten tress,  
Where scars of time dissolve, and stars restore.

Her breath a tide that drowns, then pulls to shore,  
Soft hands explore, igniting kindling skin,  
As galaxies embrace, rapture their cores,  
Their stars are born, where light and love begin.

Two stars entwined, their fire will never cease,  
From chaos born, an ever-burning peace.