The ocean burned with envy as it watched you look at me like no sailor ever looked at the sea, like seeing glass catch fire in the warm warring light of desire, with murderous clarity the brine conspired to dine on our mortality, capsizing our galleon in its rabid foam and ragged reef of teeth, I could but taste your breath and smell your neck as our feet lifted from the deck, eyes intertwined, ascending to the covetous sky, as stars crossed themselves, charting our demise, growling from infinity, outraged by your beauty, worldly, staggering, its angels made plain in their cheap celestial artistry, our adoration a violent constellation by which our heavenly enemies seemed alien, irrelevant, dim, until the renegade dawn stole through the night and its yawn, a welcome flame to which we became patron saints, golden, radiant, safe to crawl inside each other, lovers, our boundaries blurred, the outside world distant, slurred, our affections understood and unheard.
YOU ARE READING
Brightly Dreamed the Bard
PoetryDrink deep the Mead of Poetry and stoke the stars with dreaming fire. Composed primarily while the world sleeps, these works are as darkly bright as the night sky and its many wanderers.
