when all the sycophants
have departed
their perversity satiated
from making love in
castles made of sand
i will dry your tears
and gently take your hand
leading you away
from the village of the damned
on the first morning
in the year forever
we will watch wildflowers
sway to the symphony
of a summer breeze
i will toast sublime
a moment captured in space and time
drinking cactus wine
as you perform a delicate striptease
after making love
far away from shadows
that cast regret
we will reflect
on the fools we left behind
praying
for entities
that could never be
losing their virginity
in the church of poisoned minds
driving past
the last gas station for miles
but we dont care
the cheyenne autumn sun
burns through the haze
of our conscious minds
stopping on a restless highway
i need to find
just where you hid your wings
tasting your lips and tongue
among
my favorite things
photographs of dark portals
we once captured
when we explored the darkness
of depression searching for the light
love lost
and forgotten legacy
seems to lessen in intensity
as above we listen to those desperately
trying to fight
for one last room reserved
for one night
hearing a lovers scream
replaced by disrespectful reams
of god damns
seems the incoming tide
washed away the castle made of sand
falling into a deep sleep
deciding to wait
to make love tomorrow
each in our own realm
visiting gravesites
where 3 stones were erected
wrapped in shrouds
sure our souls are protected
being visited by the very same angel
that once visited the mother of christ
realizing as the dawn peaks through
our window
our love will indeed suffice
whispering to no one
nothing at all matters now
failed expectations
and insinuations
always create a bitches brew
consumating our love
as our love begins anew
observing the widow of disambiguation
crying alone in a church pew
bathing in a secret mineral spring
listening without prejudice
as the phoenix sings
staring off into the horizon
as we marvel
watching love spirits dance
and to think most thought
we didnt stand a chance
but the doubters remain buried
by their own demands
ignoring the incoming tide
while making love
in castles made of sand

All Poetry by D.Greaves/Darwin Greaves by D.Greaves-Darwin Greaves is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at dgreaves.posterous.com.
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