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What are you waiting for?
And I dreamed you were painting me
dreaming of painting you
watching yourself spin fire into a woman
made of orchid wine and nylon roses.
Look at how your lips re-shape with song,
and joy, the aesthetics of my desire.
The smoky sweetness of your spirit
curled up from the mink thatch
of your heat and splattered the canvas
of love's untamed genius.
I drew you deep inside every cell––
exhaled tenderly the sacred kiss of us.
See the way our souls vibrate bright heavens
shooting naked through our hearts.
In a bombed-out Moroccan market
your eyes laughed the riddles
and your tongue wept the parables
that cradle this planet’s lonely faith.
Almost: I learned something about divine design.
About the warm holiness that makes it credible.
Listen to how we sigh soaked in colors of bliss.
As I slid and burned skin with you
through reflections of fantasies
stepping boldly into flesh––
I nearly learned something about love.
About the way it dreams of us,
dreaming lives and worlds for each other.
