Sing to my Thirst

Time is a deceptive blur, my love. Ours is immortal.

Touch my person, my love. Our year has come. Thus,

I’m wrought to stargaze, to peer into Divinity, if

Only to touch your face. You’re magic, my love—a

Mystic reality, whelming my riddled soul. Alone, I’m

But a man, subject to perish. But with my love, I’m the

Key to infinity, the maze of death, a sacred passage.

O my living soul!—distressed beyond belief, treading

The hidden path, for I long for the facts of love. Thus,

Calamity is upon my countenance, piercing my

Breastplate. Are you there in the horizon, my love? Are

You nearby fashioning the quilt of my soul?—for I’m

Roaming the desert, partaking of dust, kneeling in

Exhaustion. Heal me, my love. Sing to my thirst.