THE PALM TREE

Walk with me into the depths of the night, gently
place your hand in mine, our fingers interlocking, two
twin souls slowly becoming one, bound by love.

I feel the heat from these burning embers.
A melodic glow from day resonates through the torn
asunder haze of this balmy december rain.

We have become something so vascular in nature,
yet so delicate. The fabric of this tryst has become a blood
ridden thing. A fleshy laceration, flapping in the wind.

I know these warm humid streets we walk too well. What
lies ahead is nothing by nightmares entombed in cryptic
words, built on a blue-collar workers sweaty spin.

 

If the first act was when we met, then when you left
must have been two - “I love you” - was just a lie, with no doubt
to burden my mind, I’d rather live a lie, than without you.

I am but a woman, I am composed of my limitations, the
rest is only animated imitations, but as long as I’ve the light of
the moon to guide my eyes, I will always see you -
as a strong plam tree.

You are no mere a man, you are something more. Every
soul has a counterpart, please stand inside mine, the radiant color
of your eyes amplifies my undying love in between my sighs