I wish I had this on vinyl

I would love to have the full sound of this playing over and over as I write

I wish I were flying by night through clouds

There was once a girl
who held her breath underwater
for so long she grew gills

She opened her eyes and breathed free
before she dove away into the depths
and all I saw was a shimmer

But as a boy I would look above
At the mountains drifting past in communion
While the waves above rippled and silver
they shimmered
in the Sun

As now I look through the dark
at the moon in its shimmer
and I wonder if waves still pass above
and I wonder how long must I stand here
holding my breath

Sestina: a Whisper

Please, do not hear me softly
when I part across the quiet
and lean in close to whisper
how I desire to taste your flesh,
The salt of your warmth,
The salt of your love,

For when I speak of love -
Never, never softly -
As you hold on to me for warmth
while we walk in the quiet
night, I will imprint the word in to the flesh
beneath your ear, with a whisper...

Though it can be hard to whisper
when you do the little tricks I love,
Dragging your nails across my flesh,
Pulling on my lower lip, but stepping softly
as we do our best to stay quiet
while we retreat inside for warmth...

Wrapping our blankets around us, the warmth
of our form entwined in the whispering
sheets, displacing the quiet
with those little giggles I love
and smiling softly,
admiring our flesh,

We will revel in our animal rush, flesh
tingling when I bite your inner thigh, the warmth
enticing me as I explore your softly
moonlit body with the whisper
of skin on skin, testifying our love
to the cold silence

With ragged breath, banishing the quiet
within our own flesh
and awakening our ephemeral love!
Later, in the glow of our warmth
and speaking in a bare-whisper
I would still lie listening to you breathing, softly...

For when I break through the quiet, and you feel my warmth
on the flesh behind your neck, when I whisper
that I love you, I do not mean it softly.

Words of Wisdom

"There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach."
- J.R.R. Tolkien, 'Return of the King'