Textures #59

first there was fire in your pupils

chemicals mixing in the air we breathed

creating the particles from which love was born

our lips sparkled with stories as ancient as the earth

stories about Storm and Shadow and Sky

then water it fell on your eyelids

with my fingers i traced the shape of your eyebrows

and licked the salt off your tears

like the borders of countries i never visited before

we roamed the lands and your hand held on to mine

but our love was not meant to last

for pure love must be broken into pieces and

shared over and over with other souls

in the hope that one day it may return purer

folded into a myriad complexities as rich as 

the orography of our bodies making love


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