Embers crossing southern winds
Would reap eternal currents
Of eyes full and foolish trust
In the forest of moments
A burning, speaking tremble
I make my stride to hold your gleaming
As words collide,
annoint your dreaming
Hurry now, I need your love
Such a scent would make me weak
Don't resist this outer mess
I fall now to find your feet
A yearning, fleeting crumble
I rest my stride to taste your breathing
As lungs collide,
restore your leaving
