Slowly human falters
in the Glow, midnight waters.
A sucking pain of Inhalation
to allow my headfirst dive
into perfumed pillows of your lips.
Am I Flying or am I Swimming.
I better not be dreaming.
The Rapture is your calm and cool
collected reciting prayer hushed intensely.
You Bury me into the Ground.
A gasp.
There are no borders attached any longer
to my fevered, sweating, glistening skin.
Your Roots have tangled all around me.
I am Phoenix and I Fire.
Glittering flame licks up the barky tree
spirals into shows of light and colour.
Yips of ecstasy echo filling
the comfortable spaces between the stars.
Popping in my ears rhythmically beating
the pace of tangled spider dancing
up the heaven's braiding and unbraiding legs.
A blanket of luxurious, heavy ocean
folds my arching form into Holy devotion
to press my body into fleshy pressure.
Shifting, heaving tectonic plates
hidden deeply, existing to grow and rise.
Am I floating or am I gliding.
Two fallen pods off the tree
clutched together despite the swirl
and dizzying pull of gravity.
Or the sudden surface rush to release
what is realized as bated breath crashing
and colliding among the rushing water.
And to take gulp of shuddering breath
to find us back on the surface.
Heads against the other's chest.
