The Gloss on your Lips

© Photo by Marjon Besteman-Horn/

For the moon to eclipse the sun, transient is the flame of desire, a fire that burns intensely, forms a halo around your heart: the heart be the mind that sees and desires.

Your legs a necklace around my neck: languid your torso flows immersed in the deep still waters. The overripe fruits hangs from the vine. Mine is the divine rite.