crimson times dripping from the brush

this vermilion honeymoon
rooted in aureoles and sand and lost
in the dust of a future self - this fathomless
lovemaking, breathing fever
and half-mast evenings onto canvas and
distant footsteps, this ancient
longing devouring time
that will never yield a word
great enough to hold us

i am exhaling those blue roses
for you to breathe them in
i exhale my longing for you
to drink this immense alluvial light
and echoed floods

to breathe is to accept
this lack of air, this living fire
these screams
this desire

as if for the time we live
we could find ourselves
in the indigo wind of stars

side by side