Light dribbles in beads into our outstretched eyes taking flight
Hands clasped as laughing children, we pass into the garden
Its orchestra of scents: roses, violets, lavender
Nectar explodes on tongues beckoning. Carnaval floats glow.
Ears bent to harp strings plucked, we stagger, levitate, and dance
Until arriving cliffside to melt into the Abyss
and spring anew. To clutch atop a bed of pungent grass;
Petals unfolding before a hot-blooded obelisk;
A piston’s thrust, the gripping and grinding; toes quivering.
That urgency? That last hesitating moan we beseech?
We plunge together so entwined, engulfed by a torrent,
succumbing, letting it shape our clay, becoming again
that sparkle and promise of our next lifetime together.