What You have done
is not taught at dawn's...

Father of Love...

I am tempted by what you have created,
the beautifully innocent I have unclothed...

I am staring at an unbalanced tree,
black carvings deface its stability...

He slashed through the storm,
slitting open vaporous eyes...

A light flickers on,
reflections taint soil...

You nudged me in white rings of escape,
my fingers drifting across your hazel drops...

You keep pushing her down
even though she rises above...

She tumbles across the breezeless lake,
awaiting diamonds from his trip to the sky...

Envious wind snakes around our necks;
it breaks its own boundaries to terminate us...

Scenery from my door
begs in high quality accents...

Our lips gradually reunite
after empty mornings of waste...