Morning Arrives
“Morning Arrives”
Touch is elusive.
I cup my hands
around your light -
the golden ethereal
glistens against my skin.
Morning raptures
ascend from deep inside,
hard-pressed to the mirror's edge,
the Ocean surges within;
jade windows open wide,
the ghost soul slips out
through the unlocked
rosy door of sighs,
into the sensual blue
of you.
The voyeur reflections
of watching original sin
taste like sunshine
burning alive within;
Morning arrives.
Possession begins.
Candide Diderot. ‘26
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