It was a spiritual revival
For my senses and
All other men ceased to exist
Even women became nothing
but mere dandelions
surrounding us
An encompassing halo
of delicate tears
Their joyous envy
sugar and salt
confuse together
If i could exude visually
how you heal my soul’s
battle wounds
my beauty would be
an assualt on all things
previously held in
high esteem for their
asthetic emaculateness
Because of this gift
that comes to me
wearing your form
I can no longer find fault
in our, once, defective world
For i have been favoured
over all other creation
No longer wandering
idle, naked, alone
through a thorny garden
Protected, I’m cloaked
in this royal fabric
That is your love
