palms of trinket
fingernails and feathered
memories gliding down
an epic spine.
i wad disguised as
your cathedral and
each vertebrae whispered
an aum in our heart
halves.
our christened abode.
our bodhi shower of
leaves.
our golden palace
of dates and fasting.
im captured in your
rain and as i sit silently
on our lap made with grey
and sometimes black freckles
i am in a morning without
the moonshine
the sunshine
within.
