• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 12

Our Fever

Her hair, indigo
untied - and the stars
are helpless shoal

caught in the evening tide

In our yellow hearth
a fever burning bright
Between us silence

is a small prism, a lonesome blade
- it captures the light
Your stance

sphinx - like
encompasses my plight
and shows it where to lay

I say to you, my love
over and over again:
I wouldn’t have it any other way