to live by your touch
is to count every breath
as my last.
frozen outside your crystal skin
that hides the raging seas of Poseidon's tumult,
the hurricanes of Echo's passing passions
Paris plays games for Golden Apples and
Apollo lost his way
on his very first day.
I made the chariot, baked the apple and gave Zeus lightning
to scorch awe onto Olympus;
all while I waited for us,
to meet and touch
to share the same air,
to flare the torch of this earthly furnace
gilding our precious metals
of entwined limbs as souls
shaped on the anvil of our hearts
and I hold my breath
lest you forget to brush
against your canvass the colors
of happiness when we touch.
is to count every breath
as my last.
frozen outside your crystal skin
that hides the raging seas of Poseidon's tumult,
the hurricanes of Echo's passing passions
Paris plays games for Golden Apples and
Apollo lost his way
on his very first day.
I made the chariot, baked the apple and gave Zeus lightning
to scorch awe onto Olympus;
all while I waited for us,
to meet and touch
to share the same air,
to flare the torch of this earthly furnace
gilding our precious metals
of entwined limbs as souls
shaped on the anvil of our hearts
and I hold my breath
lest you forget to brush
against your canvass the colors
of happiness when we touch.