There Is a Thing

To be said,
about love.

Birthed
in the shadow
of the rock, a daughter of Tyre
                       thou art my hiding place

dozing, salamander
curled, nose to tail,
fire banked, ready
for the warm breath
of a lover
on newly discovered flesh.
                      I will instruct thee and teach thee
                                   in the way in which thou shalt go

All is overwhelmed
by heat,
desire ripping
through dry brush,
leaping,
treetop to treetop,
dry pines bursting to red life,
wave upon wave of
needles like lit matches, flaring, engulfed….
                      thou art fairer than the children of men
                                   grace is poured into thy lips.

Fire stirs wind,
breath brings
heat to skin.
Your touch, Princess of Tyre….
Oh oh oh
                         thine arrows are sharp