melting pot of emotion

Caressing fire

with palms of clay

swaying to the mold

of his gold form

breathless and beautiful

speechless and bold

reaching the threshold

of his eyes

where sighs slip

sculpted and gripped

tripping over each other

with lips of lovers

and all I can do is smile

he fits so well

hard to tell

what shape

we will take

for he is solidly

chiseled in me

[a work of art we will be]

1998