To
love for matrix, a heartbeat love, nestled in moments. She
loves
affect, a tendon pressure, to measure through portals.
He
touched a thigh, to grip a shoulder, to fall a dream. They
gesture
softly, a fatal whirlwind, a crescent trust. There’re doting
love,
a subtle segue, fleeing into flight. They soar, sitting still,
found
in yoga. Its boding brightly, a brilliant birth, baked in
birthrights.
He claims a valley, to carry tension, to vow for
concrete.
Her smile's mercy, a mansion maze, ablaze’d in love.
They
play for games, a much ado, acting Shakespeare. Life is
love,
a sullen cry, to crave a castle. It’s a monsoon, to play it
limpid,
as trenchant as surgery. Its astral love, a first love, as
mature
adults. He filched a heart; she weaved a furnace; both
are
forever. They paved a fortress, wit little mammon, to
picklock
dreams. Love is magic, an earthen stone, blessed in
aqua.
Oh for sulfur, to vacuum love, to quench
for thirst; but
love
is nocturne, filled with favor, a fervid hymn. So less for
rain,
where love is law, to war malaise; for vows were made,
a
telic song, ringing through every valley.
