Honeyed forbidden fruit, cradled in my hands.
Now calm, the saline rivulets of past.
Our cups have emptied over one another,
So we may fill them again, flow them over,
Measures have no meaning – no longer.
Diving deep into our warm oceans,
These tired bodies are never to drown again,
But resuscitate – breathe
One thousand little deaths
Of the Lover’s embrace.
Fathomless treasures of your heavy heart,
I’m forever poor without your riches.
Open all of our silent doors at once, together.
Step out from those lonely veils,
Feel my cupped hands, without measure.
Let us thrive in the secret space,
Between what exists and what does not,
Where our lips live without fear of time.
Primitive Joe 