Free Verse # 177 (my eyes were filled with stars)

You stepped into me and I, like a famished star, stepped into the sun, my skin inside her walls collapsing.

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My breath wrapped around your neck like the silken light of the moon shall be the adornment of your soul.

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All I ever sought I found within the garden of your skin, its fountains of honey and milk.

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It dims and dims, your song, but it never fades, and the fainter it grows the greater my agony.

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The agony of her face which fades and fades but never vanishes. The paler it grows the deeper its burn in the flesh of my madness.

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Nothing remains. Even mountains are bound to fall like autumn leaves into the eternal mist.

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Her curves, flowing rivers eager to stream into the ocean of me.

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Dawn, the onslaught of the stars by the rising sun; the stars be your freckles, the sun, my heart.

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Night, for so long was his camp laid amid the walls of my heart that my stars were snuffed one by one.

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Through your eyes I gaze into the eyes of the world.

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Lyrical madness—what of sanity remains let us sow amid the stars.

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The poem we wrote we hung like a painting above our bed; then, one day as we slept, the painting fell, and we woke up amid its waves.

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Your voice through the mist came cool and chill like the last wave of autumn carrying me into winter’s heart.

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In your snow-thawed stream I wash my soiled wings.

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Stars burned like sacrificial tears on the altar of sorrow.

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I set my words in a winged flight, a pilgrimage coursing through dunes and stars seeking for her womb.

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My existence sings to yours from the deepest oceans of my heart, and together we fly, bound by love.

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Many a wordsmith I’ve met, a blacksmith of the legions of the heart, but never one came close to the burning artistry of her fluid hand, of her tongue made of stars.

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I roamed existence, a stranger, until the day I kissed your skin, my lips growing moist on the earth that birthed me.

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Like a storm of silence your breath blew over me; when the waters receded my eyes were filled with stars.

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