She's folded in the fingers of a summer

Breeze that tickles her cheeks

Ripe and glossy like flushing candy

Apples bobbing in soft ripples

Of a swollen watercolor horizon.

He writes his name on the roof

Of her mouth and she's choking

But she gets pinks from the blues

In her skin hidden under his kiss.

One breath away from the shy

Moon peeking through the darkness

A cloak emblazoned with starry

Symphonies that lure them

Down into the blurred lines.

Shadowy flames of waxen

Bones the ornate candelabra

Of their chests humming steady

As common time up a minor scale.

Slippery reflection penciled in

The tangles of her irises whispering

Perpetually of her superstition

Falling from her lips as she's swept

Off her feet that tumble out from under.

Her throat is hollow as the words

She'd heard before her world

Became translucent and rocks eroded

Into sand swallowing her song.

He filled the dips in her spine with ink

Stained fingers gently tugging strings

To shake the cinders from her

Heart forgetful and writing a new philosophy

To tattoo over their clasped hands.