Continuing moans of crashing waves
slide along the flat beach.
Ribbed sand slices shadows
as the sun,
piercing through mournful cloud
lays bare this earth’s deathly fate.
Reflections of sadness
in the rippling icy sea.
The world has cried for long enough,
yet we still don’t listen.
Is it too late?
A fractal heart,
staring into the past.
He is a trail cutter,
a dark night sleeper.
Brown roots, bristle.
A red look cuts across the finite skye.
The hills rise and fall,
blessed Creature lies.
The lion roar,
licking me with her delicate tongue.
Burnt amber,
rippling across our faces.
Hair stands on end,
like tree roots.
Hands quiver.
A gale blows through wilted leaves,
giving strength to flame.
Pleasure or pain?
Paint drips.
Brick sweats.
Our gaze meets atop burning mountains.
I want to stroke your mane,
to touch your powerful heart.
Feel the grasp of claw,
hold my deep red love.
