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·

my lover is the breeze
that breathes against my neck.

he is the sun that warms my shoulder
on crisp, autumnal days
he showers me in gold and heat
and bathes me in his rays.

my lover is as loyal
as the seasons of the year.

he returns with natural bounty
hiding treasures at my door.
he takes all that he wants from me
and leaves me filled with more.

·

he is the tide I rise and fall in.
he is the oxygen I drown in.

·

my lover is the sculptor
of my shape and silhouette.

he takes the pink from evening’s sky
and puts it on my cheek.

he takes the green from woodland’s pine
and sets it in my eye.

from the heavens he plucks freckles,
and decorates my chin,

and from the snow-capped mountains,
he carves and smoothes my skin

·

he is my craved sovereign
and I am his delight.
he is the moon that stares back at me
and illuminates my night.

·

though I have never seen him, thus,
and he has not seen me
all this does course between us
and we’ll forever be

the match that needs no flint
and the ember without air
white stone, igneous and glowing –
alive, immutable, and rare.

·

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