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For as molten metal bound are we not in the magma
Love if only I could love the stone core of your heart
Love you like the vine that splits and climbs a rock face
Love you like a sun orbiting the moon—what art
Tendril dripping over the craters could we I erase.
What flowers sand-speckled-neck then could I open
To the lusting wants and needs of these midnight stars
That reverberates into an ocean...
Rejected, each from the other like polestars...
But even stone can possess life eternal
Touch me and do I not quiver like a willow...
Caught in the cross winds of the meadow, you, might say piffle!
But it's only truly your hearts last wrenching salvo..?
Kiss me my dear and seal it within a canyon of larva
For as molten metal bound are we not in the magma..?
poem
by
Mark Heathcote
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