your smile is an ancient ruin my inner child hides in the nooks, corners and corridors of;
offing itself slowly as it hitches a ride from the winds of fall time, and the crumbs fade and lessen like handfuls of sand jumping from hand to hand only to be left to be one of the many pinches of salt there are in this desert of a love. my dove, my dove... i still see you as the only one i could ever love... i eye a syrupy drip of patience resides in the hollow of your heart and lungs, with your qualms as honey bees that feast on the liquid amber. steadfast as the place of dirt outside of gods hands, without form ready to be made into form; and i am the holy flesh of all lambs prayed over and prepared to be sacrificed and burned at the altar that is your body... ignition in the combustion of the skin that shelters our hearts pressing against one another, between the hands of flames that grip my face, and the tears they wipe away. i'd wash your feet with my hair many a time to make you stay... this time around.
