Member Rara Avis
I will kiss the snow from your lips.
I will bring your face to a blush.
Will you open your subtle eyes,
so I may see them in the light?
I will move the stones from your keep.
I will stack them over the hill.
I will lay them within the copse,
its gray-green shades with theirs interspersed.
I will free you from the dark clay,
uncover your form and brush off the soil.
Dim curling clouds will filter the light
as I comb the luster back to your hair.
I will hold you closer than wait.
I will hold you closer than warmth.
As the dawn begins to build,
I will listen for your first breath.