And so I touched a silver sun,
Frigid still in growing days.
Groaning, waking, still in dreams,
Walking into water.
Heavy in the chest and back,
Heart held rigid, expanding.
Empathetic sponge of volcanic ash,
Still able to melt under Dixie eyes.
Ocean's orb churned nearing
Eyes that hold the sea's brine,
Sand floating as surface debris,
Infinite ripples attacking the mind.
The Southern moons hold antidotal,
Powerful, steaming, careful opening.
Gentleman charm and silvery sounds
Richly warm to taste.
And so I'm held by silver moons,
Sparking a golden ray.
Frost melts under warm water
And eyes gleam gold once more.
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