hyperboles of youth and turmoil,
mars is a boy in multitude
he's one amongst the crowd
prettily gazing at the others —
observing, probably but not surely—
what he doesn't realise is that he's a sight
to behold: a juvenile sculpture carved
by zeus in his sleeping form
mars sparkles when he breathes,
when he exudes cheery calls and
when his fingertips link with mine
when he swirls the air as a sphere
in his hold.
sweetheart, come see this!
but rather than the sculpture facing me
my eyes seek yours on that beach.
cherry boy with that clementine tongue
hold me with your kiwi scented palms
twirl me in the tangerine tango of your mind
reach for me with your raspberry jam eyes
dance with me amidst the mandolin marmalade sunrise
comfort me with your cucumber limbs
touch me with thimbleberry gentleness
and kiss me with vanilla fruit sweetness.
