In Each Other's Skin
Tides rock the fish to sleep.
by William D. Borgen
Our child dreams in candy colors,
of green, white and red.
Hands cup the sunset.
We are perfect in each other's skin.
We embark in a crystal slip,
the canopy of the evening sky a
cobalt - blue madness.
We wave to the setting sun.
We go below teakwood decks.
Wispering of latitudes and
You are my love.
You are my child of stone.
You are my seedling.
You are my breast - warm spring day.
So where is the end of all this?
So why is cinnabar red?
I never want to end this feeling,
for I'm intoxicated on this, your eternal NOW