From the West, my red tip swirls
around your soft turns.
We meet the mount.
Dance in the fire.
Your rose heat peels. Hardness
penetrates the skin of twilight,
between the salts
of your inner
sanctum, and the horizon of my flesh.
Louder! we cry from inside our caves:
we crave the rush.
As one, unleashing our wilds
under the celestial canopy, we dance around
the flames – flashes lick and destroy yesterday’s future
with naked abandon.
Deep…a new deep
beat pulses: ‘no mercy’
in the black night of our eyes.
I die in you, and your soft kiss tenders the East. The clarion sun
slowly rises
and painfully plays the golden note
of our rapture.