Like sungrown nectar, it ripples sweetness across the roof of my mouth. It is no longer a distant memory, but one that loops like the 90 passing suns in front of my film reel lashes. I see porch light stars and know the beauty in salt and sweat on skin under crescent moons. Letting it burrow into your marrow and giving yourself wholly to to another until our veins run with melted colors of vibrancy and zealous infernos.
Darling, you see, your love has driven me quite mad, but I cannot help entangle myself in my muse. I want to live with you in fields of sugarcane and unkempt flowers, where this universe of fire and ice can leave us uninterrupted in our bed of leaves and dew. I can only hope to pass through the summers and springs with you, sipping on sweet tea and apricot seeds.