Fateless Romance

A whistle in the waters,
Pools of carnations, like dreams,
Wave gleefully to the nails of morning
Sanctimonious in their embrace of crimson.

Waist of sunflowers, I hold for an instant,
I hand to the dead sea-weed when I'm done.
To let the wandering bells toll
For what could never have happened.

Eyes roll to where passion might be hidden,
Eliciting mystery weaved into doubts
Like lace weaved into the sleeping fields.
Breasts, a tender cradle of hatred.

The sun warms us
For our blood is the prodigy of his touch;
What is it in me that lights,
At your warm caress?

The sheltering trees and bright doors
Are oblivious to my role:
I do not belong to them or their namesakes,
Only to the soilt that warms my bed.

As your hand reclines on mine
Like a leaf warming its sister,
I take my eyes off Fate and see
It's paths are mine to choose.

Your adulterous smile
Is the beckoning of my rebellion.
The peering fishing boats only scoff at us
For we are free of the shackles of their gaze.

The reaper awaits patiently on your lips,
The roses weep blood on your hips,
A star refuses the resurrection of your cheeks;
I am one with you.