Reaping my sighs
on the altar on her absence,
sharp the moon’s sickle
in the sea of dawn.
~
Hecatomb of desire,
caught in her scent
a thousand flowers
melting to the floor.
~
The sea at dawn,
a peaceful child
lulled on the bosom
of his tender mother.
~
In the garden
where silence
is flower and fruit
for her I wait,
my heart against her lips
weeping to be the dawning sun,
the cup of sacred wine.
~
Dawn’s breathless shiver,
upon my cheeks
the dew of silence.
~
Wielding your breath
as though it were a flame
you burned all my poems
then into the ash wept
a sacred tear and lo!
my heart in dawn’s sky
a secret garden.
~
Under his fingers
her skin quivered
as the surface of the sea,
leaving him drenched
in salt and foam
and a yearning to sail
for eternity.
~
Drenched in his breath
the layers of her heart
he slowly peeled,
revealing the silence
vibrant at the core
of fluxing life.
~
The gray of dawn was an ashen cloak beneath which she hid a thousand burning suns.
~
Thirsting for your sea ~ my dewdrop heart.
