I've crushed grapes with these teeth;
sucked the sense from a number of things,
but, here, I'll fall to my knees, if only
you'll share your fire with me.
We taste the shells of memories,
Probe the surfaces of once lost longings,
story-spin with the threading of tongues
and the soft slide of velvet lip tides.
We speak as monks made profane,
disrupting hymns with devil's rhyme,
singing, instead, with ebbs and flows,
and dissolving great mysteries with mouths
like perfect spirals carved in stones.
In purple chaos twilight - we drown,
pressed close under a swivel of stars,
breaking our knees, here, in this sea.
Warped in ecstasy around the poles of our legs,
the whips of our arms, and the
mesh web of our hair as our minds ache
to create one sun in one sky.
One moon poised between our closed eyes.
Angels compete for heaven's release,
pomegranates infest their dreams,
and flesh calls down those golden beasts,
those Nephilim astronauts with gifts
to mask our words with the beating of wings.
We're mercurial, electric, guided by
the storm of the song, to collide and drift
until the cool neon dawn.
Casting spells in the folding of limbs,
it's about time we let Eros in.
Prophesize the story of us as you sway.
I'll think only of rousing my lips into
butterflies, drawn to the pollen of your temples.