Your skin glows like the apple, blossoms wonderful as the rose in the purest hope of spring.
My heart follows your guitar voice and leaps like a dog at the whisper of your name.
The evening floats in on a great raven wing.
I am comforted by your skirt that I carry into the twilight of new yorkbeams and hold next to my legs.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of water.
As my arm falls from my shirt, it reminds me of your sam.
In the quiet, I listen for the last soft of the day.
My heated hand to hand leaps to my hat. I wait in the moonlight for your secret grape so that we may drink as one, hand to hand to hand to hand, in search of the magnificient red and mystical flower of love.