Smell me the color rose,
Sticking skintight to your floral lips,
Trapped in velvet walls,
As you wrap your legs around.
And taste me the sweet song,
That the young sparrow sings,
In Spring when the apricots ripen,
Oozing telestic liquids of love.
From this would you bring me a sapling,
And plant it deep in my soil,
Let us watch the wildflowers fray in the wind,
In the thick fields,
To push the day by.
Yes, my back is weary love,
Yes, my bones have lost all hope,
Let me mend them with you,
For soon you will be gone.
(For a moment the stars form a path,
For a moment the trees have faces,
For a moment the tears from heaven,
Look like diamonds to our eyes.)