Amour a Mort

She is a masterpiece crafted in flesh

Silhouetted in the sun, smiling brighter than all that burns behind her

Her beauty eclipses all that surrounds, a soft note played to the eyes

I see her song in the sway of tall grass, in the reflections on glass lakes

Symphonies carried in the winds, whose subtle vocalizations transcend words

Whose instruments crescendo and crash, kissing the senses on their ways past

We are echoed in the other's embrace, swallowed by the complexities of our fate

Racing forward along muted timeways, where seconds tick past hours

And in moments years are gained.

She is a sculptor's finest creation

The elation and depression of knowing no other could ascend to her plane

Where all that encompasses creation seems to quiver as she approaches

And my fantasies long defined, are quietly upended by her perfection

And we travel through clouds and mirrors, past shadows to draw this nearer

To the heart, who pounds loudly against the walls of the chest

To lead the armies of the spirit into battle, for her, for grace, for dreams fulfilled

By fate, playing onward through the longest days, 'fore whispering quietly into my ear

Through love, the soul is reclaimed.

And I, who have spent countless words

In describing the curvature of Cupid's bow

The directness of his arrow

And the sting as it finds its mark

Now know the poison it is laced with

And how sweet it tastes upon the lips

As well as any, and I embrace it.

I love you, now until my last breath,

As I have none before

And never will another.