My Warriors and Lovers
I built a room with uncowered candles. I go back to it every day and you are standing there, free and unashamed. I wonder why we are deaf and mute. We know we are both just a breath away. I rejoice at the color of your voice, maybe your eyes this time.
Let me show you my heavens, while the veils are loving, free and open I held’t her. These are my favorite secrets and will save me on every scale and altar. Walk slowly through this room, in deference, in lust and hilarity. But eye’s open’d be m’preference. Not to be pious. I just want you to take in my Seven Loveliest gems, firesoft mansions made for us and by us.
First, my red room. I’m afraid to show you, it is the most beautiful. It sees and loves and tends tens and tens, e’en dozens more rooms. She smells of dirt and makes me Adam, just as red inside. Love red earth, immovable mother the most or whole worlds crumble, collide. I am stuck here staring, enamored, demand her loved by you rest.
Good luck, spin and tuck, here comes the moans of orange. Oh what range of emotion and motion, tester, taster, teaser and healer. You breathe her more than you hear or seethe her.
Yellow is ill, thrill of fist and fight. I am not allowed near the gold myself. Not right now, but soon I pray. She’s made of dragon and angel, pure, muddy water, will strong’s iron. I’d die for them. I hope someday y’ll ‘old me tight, when I’m old, I’m loud, back in for one last dinner cold, entwined golden twin.
Green love, the grass that never moves, her eyes appear a subtle pair of clues. My calmest storm, let me build a castle out of you. I didn’t know you were this warm, burning like rock, secreted for sacred, forever my most unjaded.
Blue is pure as a fallen snowbird, in love with both sides. She’s light made for wrestle and rest, part mirage, always the best. I didn’t expect her voice. It cracked mountains, snow soothing me, new tongue to long, miss achieving gentlest whisper each evening. .
Purple rhythmed my rhymed, drunk on wisdom, tender temp of her, so well timed. The moon is always grander than the sun. You can long for her craters without crying. Her blue and pink hold us infatuate, ‘tranced and smiling.
The Violet sea is where I run encircled, pretending I’m an author, docs. I want you to count these colors. More than light and sound and mind. She’s my million mad jewels, slick like liquid lovin’kind, so many callers, but lavender eyes wrest, loveliest, best when blind.