place your hand in mine—
silken skin drowning in lace
laced with childhood poison:
i want to feel its touch
as we run into the verdant labrinth,
geometrical and symmetrical
but a b s t r a c t —
we are lost
and we lose
the gleam of watchful eyes
always calculating always analyzing always scrutinizing
in the balcony above
like old gods
ambrosia on their licked lips
judgement day in their eyes
(hate) love on their (serpent) tongues
and us like young gods:
mischief and golden laughter
love and nostalgia
into the maze, into the hedges
away.
it's the art of hiding, darling.
