Obsess

Beneath the dirt,
sleeping,
buried, twisted, in budding roots,
inanimate
and mute,
and then her breath on my lips.

Beneath the dirt,
conscious,
blossomed,
scent of gold and wine,
her palm on mine.

Dreaming,
the soil beneath my spine,
emerging,
a cracked stone,
her eyes on my own.

Fully awake,
I breathe,
this passionate ache.
Fully alive,
I taste,
an infatuated drive,
deliriously I
set these fields on fire...

And in the aftermath,
sleeping, dreaming,
this field of ash,
I plant the seeds
and wait,
for her breath on mine.