The Song (after The Song of Solomon)

Before a word is on your tongue,
it flies from my mouth in praise.

On my lips syllables lie crimson
before their slide into your waiting hands,

you tell me they taste of oasis,
sweet water, poured wine.

My skin beneath your fingertips
is transparent, the rivers of my veins

run with truth. You read my life in them.
The sound of your heart echoes in my breast.

My breath is in your lungs, yours in mine
we breathe each other.

Was the tree of knowledge forbidden
or did we just dream it so?

The wisdom of creation mantles our shoulders.
We have always been completely whole.

Sing me into your night
and I will sing you into my dawn.

Honeyed figs fill our mouths each morning
there are no serpents here.

This has always been Eden.