How much wind rushing
can make your heart burn,
make the ashes swirl?
And no discussion
can spark a cold coal.
You can still smell the smoke
when you wake with it clinging to your clothes.
It'd be a bad mistake not to tell her that you love her though.
But you are not a savior--
you're a long awaited male heir
You're clear blue water rushing through my hair.
Cash on the barrel:
I can't offer much that will make you blush.
But shake them out, when they're unfurled
in bare light of day a moonlight paper crane
with some work you don't deserve or not deserve kid
will show you quote-unquote just to prove your intuition.
That you are not a savior:
you're a breath-takingly comfortable pew.
And all I'll genuflect to is me and you.
But what is more infatuating than infatuation?
And what beauty is ever revealed without a revelation?
So love move like a glacier slowly.
If you can carve up a mountain please show me.
You are not a savior:
you're a mansion
seemingly built by me for me in some past life.
(you are not a savior)
With shifting amenities,
a crackshot caretaking team,
where you can have whatever you like.
(You are not a savior)
You can have whatever you like.
A 1st mate in the captains seat.
(you are not a savior)
The dead alive and apple cheeked.
(you are not a savior)

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