This poem only available on Lush Stories. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.

Honey-heavy air,
Is this mantle upon my shoulders,
Weighed down and laced with
Cedar's strength and sweating spice.
Your breath wreathes my form
And the world falls away
From beneath my feet
Into the starry deeps of the heavens below
Where thin, nothingness air
Is thickened with tides of power from the
Muscles that could,
But do not,
Crush me.

Strong arms rising,
You take my pale face in your hands
And hold my soul between palms of distant cosmic thunder,
Now a god's command
But yet a carnal vice
Of burning cherrywood heat
That bursts jewels from my skin
As you scorch the blood beneath
This soft, vulnerable shell.

Red hot, white heat,
Blue star bursts;
Green glows, silver pours,
And purple spreads in aching joy;
Pink blossoms, orange tangs,
And molten gold is spread upon my lips
As your lips press
In gentle velvet whispers
Where two faces are caught
Between time and space,
Held between hands of iron desire
And burning with

Raging,

Wet,

Seeping

Splendour...

This poem only available on Lush Stories. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.