Images flow and interweave enigmas rippling
on both sides of a magical mirror that became
horizontal and as supple as a lake at dusk.
It is me, here, looking deep into your eyes
through her eyes, there, and it is you, waving
between the surface and the depth of us -
a longing that swells and delves, like tides.
We all lay as one in this parallel, liquid acuity
which reinvents our essence and merges
reflections. In her lips I drink you - a crystal
clear source of known, primordial secrets –
and in my lips run the underground streams
of your elemental design she thirsts for.
I was there before, in that dark expanse of you
that she now touches here, in this rising
glow, with my fingertips - and her nipples
emerge to meet my own where
they submerged in the whirlpool of your touch.
The full-moon of her dreams in your sleep
casts the eve, revisited, of your dreams
dawning, glorious, in my arms – and there
is no end to the resemblances in the
beginning of this charm of all the makings
where images flow and interweave answers
rippling on both sides of a magical lake
that becomes vertical and as inflexible
as a mirror, in the open light of day.
