Oh
Silvia, what for warfare to love where stars bore radiance
and
life sheltered beauty. Is it myth, a kiss showered in
eternity?
I make inquiry a yogic flight ever to confirm silver
coins.
They gaze with longing passion, and lavender nigh
sunset,
running into a forest; for such a ransom to chase
where
wolves
gather
to
gnaw upon invisibility.
There’s
carpet for woodland a sylvan of love to saw where
souls
tremble. Oh Silvia, again with luggage to saunter where
hives
blossom. Shall we want for cherries mingled in whip
cream
to station on Orion; for ours has become fire to touch
chase
and even retreat. We’re down a river gripping sediments
ever
to reach for Neptune. Thoughts are watching to sprinkle
ash
where petroglyphs speak a welkin heartbeat. Ours is
intrigue
a day’s infusion where we melt into liquids. Oh
Silvia,
a reality a reality made of confetti aloft a planet called
Mars
drumming through mania. We love so hectically as
terrible
as
moon-pies
as sweet as sugar a hint of salt;
but
ours is flutes and lutes and harps and dance even hemp
and
charms. We magic such lightening both wealth for
clouds
and skies for halls. It was nightly a color grass to
graduate
to thickened grays to morph into intelligence. Shall
it
mourn, something kept, where all was foreseen? Oh Silvia,
ours
was squiggly lines for dotted prose a lake adrift a
thought
pattern. It was there to die for life and life for death
a
numbing sensation. We tortured so early, for love to woe and
welt
to love. Our dynasty a dragon’s breath a deadly kef.
