analog arch
A feathery ribbon tied in our embrace.
How it feels to be embedded within your shape.
Similar to a bird posturing with pace.
Our dance is natural in all but the vines of grape.
And how we drink the nectar of our labor,
With the effort put forth , both parties believe to be in favor.
Could I be lucky enough to have a home with my friend and neighbor?
My, oh my thoughts cross as it were our mind dancing within the wine to savor.
From head to toe,
With each step we grow,
Even absent of tempo, we tap,
For the world could be ours , if your eyes were a map.
Yet together we lay on the floor with limbs disarmed and tangled.
Surely showcasing the comfort in stationary lust.
To which the trees would envy how fruits weighed when dangled.
Our strength had been rooted, now intertwined as we lay, no wind or disaster would be enough of a gust.
To untie our silky satin decoration,
That protects us from outside condemnation .
For the color of our feather changes in the light,
And we wouldn't to distress the color blind.
tender pumice