I am but a sinner among unfaithful voyagers,

I too have travelled through your tainted passages on my way home.

Take me in every way you can as I bury us in ancient colosseums of wilting  orchids,

For your refined beauty consumes me,

Like a lake bleeds into a river and a current possesses the passerby,

Both sickeningly sweet and secretly mine.

Shorten your time and lengthen your love line,

Orchid.

And if I spend every moment loving you as if it were the last,

And every other second as if it were the first,

What would you conjure with your melodic militia.

As you bewitch the sun and I enchant the moon,

Together we drown to make one atmospheric plain.

Cradle one another and weep, my eternal love,

You will always remain the most beautiful to me.

If time never deceived you as my curls and eyes insisted upon,

Oh yet I wish time had denied, deceived, manipulated and loved you.

For your purity forgiven, my love abandoned,

As your scriptures wrote.

The virtuous sin claims us tomorrow as it did always,

Your poetry clouds the mirror, as mine clouds the window,

Like secret messages for all to see in this hidden place of our living.

I read every line as intricately as I caress your face when I lay in your arms under a moonlit sky.

For if truer words were never spoken,

The same pen used to paint words on our blank canvas of a home would be futile,

With walls as stricken and paint-less as theirs,

We would be the dammed instrument of destruction if our speech was taken and put into another,

For our words were only ever meant for the other.

Bury me amid your vision of natures beauty,

My love stands undiminished and undamaged,

When I look into your eyes.

In place of your iris,

A marigold stands like a ghostly taunt.

You mostly haunt me.

A tortured soul yearning with furrowed brows,

Bewitching the soul of the music,

Your unconscious beauty abused it.

Im ostracising the need to misuse it.

Your sacrificial voice my dear,

Like lives lost in still rivers my holy ghost,

Wholly devoted and dangerous,

You perforate my heart a wound to heal,

While home-grown peach blossoms grow mythically through you’re man-made maim.