The Wheel

In our fervor my fire
makes your water boil
our bodies rise like steam
born of restless turmoil

We ascend to the loftiest
subconscious plane,
clasp hands, and mingle
tumbling as rain

There is glory in free-fall
and everyone sees
how the light bores through us
as we sail through the trees

And I yearn to reside
in that raindrop sublime
a transparent orb
with nothing but time

To romp and embrace
and ingest and create.
A moment unending,
until we learn too late

That gravity triumphs,
in spite of our passion
leaves us wanting for breath
cold, blind and ashen

On the damp, leafy floor
of a notional realm.
You condensate quickly
and my light overwhelms

Streaming, though broken
by canopy's shade.
We'll be rising by noontide,
love, there's no other way

My heat will wane slowly,
my thirst never fed
until I take your love
like a line to the head

28 January 2010

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