FEVERISH
What if I said she was a lioness?
That her mane was 24 karat gold,
Sunlight spilling over her shoulders
And flowing out the horizons.
She offends the sunrise because
When the sun’s at its highest
It is faint next to her complexion.
She insults the sunset because
Even its orange glow
Is but embers to her eyes.
She winks stars from their place
And her smile laughs planets from their orbit.
And I laugh too, since I am Pluto,
Stuck in Platonic love,
A beast inside Plato’s cave,
Praying a wave would reveal my dove.
What if I told you she was that dove?
Sifting through my dreams of wispy
Whispers that I mistake for water vapors.
She is the grape harvest, a female Dionysus,
Dyin’ to be the horizon’s lysis.
She is brighter than the sea or
A thousand mirror shards,
Blinding even light from her igniting sight.
She wears the sun around her neck,
Nature’s shawl falling from her head,
An avalanche of light by her sides.
And I swam in her eyes,
And got drunk in her waters,
And I fell cold in her warmth.
