Bluest lake.

Blue is my smile,
Over the bluest lake.
One tree,
On a summer day,
Standing center,
Overlooking how exceptional,
You are to me.
You,
Behind me,
Resting,
Your arms,
Wrapped tightly,
Around the naked parts of me.
Each of your legs,
Pressed into each side of my thighs,
Not setting free.
Locking me to you,
Your fingers, rough, around me.
It is calm now.
Not letting go.
I feel my spine curling up into,
The most center part of you.
Your bare flesh, chest, open heart.
Your face, coarse hair,
Pressed to my cheek.
Stillness,
Before you,
Take me completely,
Into your dark.

A perfect dream.
We feel the earth,
Too stubborn to move for me,
When you are,
Moving me, doing to me,
All the things you enjoy,
Whispering,
And doing,
Only to me,
All over me.
Your emotions pulling me,
Pinning me,
In the rhythm that is between,
My breath and,
When I cannot breathe.
Moaning for me.

Which part of me will feel you more, Prince,
When you are gone, far away.

I wish a thousand wishes, to hope,
This wishing well called lake,
Will grant me another time,
We are,
Together,
At the center, most bluest lake.

Between Jerusalem and Mexico, a taboo love.