Leave me nothing
To turn over
Upon the leaves across this form of yours,
One that blossoms gleam beneath the sunlight,
As each kiss I land,
Is a singular brand.
Beneath each leaf,
Each summer leaf,
Like what is overhead, the pain on a painted ceiling.
The sky has a sun, the sun is what you see.
Raining rays, like kisses to your flesh.
I love, with mist that soaks you into a new moon,
I love, as I feel, breasts as mountains above a valley
Of many fragrances.
I love, with my eyes scanning the depth of you
To the reaches of Earth, beneath itself.
Leave nothing to turn over, as a leaf, or a petal.
All sights revealed, from you, to me.
The pain of a painted ceiling
Is a scenery of warmth, from above,
The sun that lays buried kisses.
We are as Adam and Eve
Upon this night in a garden,
Where we can resist the call
To anything more tempting than ourselves.