Desert hills in your eyes,
gentle lows,
smallest sighs.
I am descending
upon you,
inside.
Into this sea of calm,
beauty’s child in my arms,
smallest winters,
that dance by your side.
Tears that run down your face,
salty kisses;
small oceans with planets of life.
Lips that meet are not sealed,
secret destinies fill,
the small of your back as you rise.
Spiral galaxies spread,
in a small flower stay;
so suspended.
Like the animate truth
of our temple of flesh,
now fiery,
severed with reason.
All alone in the dark,
in our own Noah’s Ark.
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