Tincture of the Fae

One day,
You will fall in love with me.

My fingers will run your hair, scalp of my tips
Doubt at my bossum,
As you rest your heavy thougts into the blanketed navigation
Of being taken in.

You do not need me,
But here I dwell.
Dwell like a well, on your land.
Emerged.  Asked for.  Loved.

The shame,
  I want to smear it all over my body,
Your hands the weapon,
Your release, my Light.
  Breathe into everything, because Someone is coming to the multiverse with me.
On a cloud,
Elsewhere.
Between the veil; kneel or hail.

My Love is my God, and God, do I love you!
  Tapered and tempered, masks reveal other saids.

My touch a potion,
And of which I wish you to drink.
Needing your closed eyes all over me.
Your lost soul to the touch alone , of Love.
   Let me
  Touch
   You.

Surrender.  To the Hello game.
And if not, my creature,
Then goodbye once again.

Rather I,
Take you into my forest,
And Let you fall in love with what I call home.

Rather I kiss you with the stroke of touch.
Missing my human
  When he is gone and such.

The Snailing

The Snailling:

Believe me child,
  Take heed.  The reciprocity is a callous, ferocious thing.
Life,
    She inhales, and impales, all while bringing breath to thee.

I am a snail, in the morn, when all is sound, and there had been
  So much time, for
                                      Myself.

Now, I am the retribution, of a fierce-hold's intent,
   Falling apart a navigated line,
Balancing one side at a time,
  As Foot occupation's walk,

Had become the tale of me-
Brave and futile.

Snailing,
   Tiny creature now as fragile as me,
How can I cover you, while my morning fades into another day?

My time is wearing thin, and soon the sun, in all it's wholeness,
Shall seek to gobble thee up.

Weary, tiny
  Seat of my soul,
I know
    Nothing  to console you
Of this life.

If ye feast on star berries,
Then your life has been blessed,
  And we have known here,
Patches and field's
of this wonderful bitterness.

A Dune field
And a bluff of mild lore
A song down of Canterbury too
 Our life has been a blessed one,
Lil' Snailing, it's been in the love of two.

Pollination

Pollination

Time.
Time to be dipped in a soil, ripened for gestating
Time, to bask in an underground sun.

Time.  To linger for a while,
Hibernating .  Waiting, for just the right moment,
The right time
To peak one wall's surface
To a dying danger of the light,
Leaving one wall forever behind

Til death once more.

Where once I was intangible, without senses
  Now there is a world I am surrounded by,
And a river that runs close, even though I fear as all the other flowers and weeds,
Just when a rain won't come.

My death to be by the nature of that which I thrive of;
    The Sun.
Mighty Odious Body
  Of everything pervading in me.
  Grieving over, retribution a harmony
Of time lapses
Quadrants shaking loose in dimensional gaps
Jumps between portholes in time.

Time, my Love,
  Time.

Spiraling upwards towards a fray
Onward I bloom, til I turn downward one day,
And away from the sky, oh my beloved blue sun
And towards a curve once more.

Beloved dance
A motion of math, the Fibonacci Sequence
My core vibration outlasting all days and nights
Til at last,I wilt.

I lived my life, full, entangled
Drenched, and parched
Dreading Summers,
And Warful Winters
And Blooming again,
Like a Scotland Spring.
  It was all I could ever ask for.

And so I lived.  Perishing still,
  Downward I go,
Returning once more

To the wall of the underground.