ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡

wish of you

We are portraits hung on parallel walls
The room is devoid of souls but still talks
In echoes of a slowly growing creeper,
Across the zebra tiles that stretch miles
When my voice weaves a question
And the question becomes you,
You are an enigma—disappear in thin air.

My eyes, which are smoky, caress your form
Softly silent, just how this room suited
To your wishes and commands,
I have an inkling about my revelry issued
In your flavor like a long-due courtly favor
On your person.

You seem to ambush me without touching
Infatuation brews in tinted cheeks,
In my long eyelashes resting on its peak,
In your honeyed tongue's bitten squeak.

We wreathe our hands in cherry knots
From where we sit several rows apart,
You resemble a creature of the sky
With citrus adorning your every sigh,
My breath trembles some dandelions
As night falls into a song I sing,
My head pillows on your gentle wing.

I think of you in a lined page
As the sun breaks the horizon,
As the moon dwindles to nothing,
As autumn transitions to spring,
As the seas kiss up to the shores,
As the shores split up in fours,
I think of you, therefore, I wish of you.