Mad with the prophecy
Of your skin
My hands prowl
The streets of the night,
My fingers coursing
Like burning rivers
Into your womb
Of poetry.
~
In each woman
A hidden core spins
Birthing the whole world.
To touch a woman is to live
In its velvet mystery.
~
O cloistered heart,
However high its walls
No garden is hidden
From bee and butterfly.
~
All the roads spread
From the root source
Of her heart.
Traveling I always
Roamed through her veins,
Swam in her blood.
~
We have not met
But at night
My dreams and hers
Collide
And rain in showers
Of breathless stars.
Rooted in Love 