[ ode to the sun ]

I want to rise before her,
oh, envious sun,
do not expose him
with your endless arms of
sunlight
just yet.
I want to wake before she
has the pleasure of
warming his face with her
glowing wings of
illuminating colour.
Do not unveil our kissing flesh,
or the sanguine silhouettes of
our faces ripe with rapture.
Please,
oh, covetous sun,
relinquish your impulse
to immerse our sleeping souls
in your superfluous shimmer.
In my heart I know,
when your tender light
brushes his brow,
he will succomb
to your beautiful symmetry
and disregard my demeanor.
He will rise and fall
into your arms
and away from mine.
And so I ask you,
mistress of the dawn,
Please, let me see the moon,
oh, marvelous moon,
that blankets him with her cloak of stars.
It is the moon who keeps
him in my arms,
and empowers me.
He cannot flee
from the alluring feeling
of night enveloping us,
nor can he resist
the soothing sound
of the songbird
that sings what I wish to speak.
Perhaps, just this once,
the vengeful sun
could dream in her earth-bed
a little longer,
and grant me a few more
hushed hours
alone with him
before he is
startled by her brilliance.
I want to wake beside him
before the world is bright,
to watch him in the luminous
moonlight.
Oh, relentless sun,
please
keep my hands warm in his grasp
and promise that when
you call to him
and swell from behind the shade,
that you will soon sink
into the soil
and give the sky to the moon.
And in turn,
she will give me him
again,
and in my embrace
he will have forgotten
the daylight ever touched him.