Prisms and Pomegranates
A
p
p
L
E
S falling from a basket
where a sapphire tunic
catches the
color of the sea,
prisms from her teardrops
slice the happiness from me,
turning rainbows into oil slick
churning colors
round and round
tambourines and pomegranates,
making love without a sound.
Bathing in the fragrant fountains
at the base of waterfalls
we are shadows in the mountains
Love primieval rise and fall.
May the turtledove be silent
let the eagle cease to fly,
ere we dare to break the circle
of our passion
you and I.
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