When I imagine skies, it is never actually empty,
Your elegant form glides, surfing the air like a Hawk,
In the summer songs love, there are only feathers drifting,
Like that sunset we saw, perfectly, orange and yellow,
Melting into the lake, while we stand seeing the sun at night,
It seems the feather drifts, along the contours of your heart,
Tethered to your body, always seeming, like touching stars,
The reiki of your life, your breasts softly holding my heart,
While we meld together, forging love like
a blade in fire:
....
..
.
Such elegant climes, we hunt as...