You spoke an Orange Blossom in flower
To comfort me, an island of delicate scent
mapping waves, deserting gravity.
Jasmine has grown from roots,
Curled up the spine of our vessel
To a sky without words.
Rekindling a dream, your landscape
Bold, a place for my solitude
Falling to your sunset,
Cultivating colours upon cheek.
You gather, delicate
in palm a pearl to arrest me!
Lingering here, beating waves,
Thought following heart, beat
Of sun, of earth, of water
A lotus on my tongue abandoning bliss
As you raise me to Heaven.
Moist mysteries, a breathless shiver
hips of lust slowly sinking
drunk lips to my womb, birthing
New air to an oblivious descent.
The smallest flower prophesies
Spoken brush the voice from your lips
As they drown, my naked flesh warm
and requesting, obliterating syllables
Of salt and foam on the coming dawn.
(c) A Hannan