Orchard Thieves

Through the grasslands where our serpent glides
Between broken hearts and subtle lies
Losing all sense of time
In this paradise stolen

Over mountains of slow progress
Inside a deep coital crevice
Gorging on our lover’s prime
Devouring wild kisses

For we are those two orchard thieves
Nestling in a bed of elder leaves
on a susurrous Midsummer’s Eve
Brazenly skyclad

In the death throes of a blissful sleep
Hourglass embers of dual body heat
Dressed in sorrow we must soon return
To a silence that betrays us