Verse to Verse
It
took but a glimmer, to toil for love, in a roundabout
manner.
Raindrops kissed our souls, rising with flame,
painfully
voiceless. We felt a symbol, climbing steepness,
abandoned
to passions. What was our keel: a pier of
prayers,
fitful for fertilizer. I grapple with a verse, torn
for
moments, lost in a thrall of infatuation. We
nurture
insecurities, building strengths, deep a rapture
of
joy. Love has become an axiom, a pivot of dynasties,
where
lovers dote, insanely jealous. Our aria is
resounding
softly, ever ablaze. How have we traveled
quicksand,
found in a thrall of captivation? I love us
come
rainstorms, sign for sign, clawing warm visions.
Awash
us in perfumes, ever alive, circuit to circuit. Our
ghosts
are dancing, sounding Aum, perfecting prose.
We
animate force, table to table, toasting life.
