What do you say to us stylishly
opening that closed door again?
Are your arms still wide open
to bury me therein?
That I may lay on your chest,
that your bosom might be my
guide into the land that breeds dreams,
that your body might be the firefighter
my burning body is seeking.
What do you say to, you and I again?
With no assurance here,
and on the horizon.
©dos_k
D