Red Dawn

House of Heart

At night we entwine
interlacing tendrils weaving
desert sand, bodies stretching,
reaching, giving way, every ripple
replicated in the amber sand.
Nights are as sweet as dew drops
on a rose and each sigh is a vow.
A silent Oracle I inscribe Arabesque
across the grain of your skin
so that when you wake
you will remember.

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