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.