O, caramia – to bathe in heavens delight is to gaze upon thine face under the moonlight

And to gaze is to be baptised in the quenching sea of seduction.

Art thou not mine canvas of perfection and dew-kissed doves?

Once beneath flesh wrapped in ivory feathers and gold,

Lo, freshly freckled flesh adorned with rose-filled kisses

Wherefore the shape of curves inspires divinity itself within such ancient temples-

And of which hath been worshipped for centuries.

So, beguile and restless do I lay within the tombs of romantic bards.

Yet I fall short of breath with each desperate touch of serenity,

And I fall to my knees, clutching at mine bereaved youth.

O, long hath I wondered in the sands of Aphrodite’s divine grace

Anon such a rough and caressing surface do I craft a pearl necklace drenched in reverence

So, the salty breeze grasps my throat and makes me its hostage as it whispers with spite and fondness:

“Amor tussisque non celantur”.

And I, long wandered, weary-sailed, yield at last my wandering tongue and lift mine softened gaze

Ergo mine lips become malnourished and dry without thine kiss.

For an eternity of folly is mine fate, and I accept it in full.

Heavens be and heavens above,

None doth taste as sweet as thine.

Comparable to the nectar of the gods, yet thou draw the madness out in me.

Much like star-crossed lovers did I become temperamental and obsessive-

Yet temptation consumes mine flesh like a voracious appetite that enslaved the titans themselves.

And so, damnation has never been so enthralling.

O, caramia,

I lay mine body and soul bare to thou.

Mine devotion is as boundless as the nymphs in Poseidon’s seas.

For to love thine completely is to beg Hades himself for an endless season of Autumn and Bliss,

Nonetheless, the Hellenic temples in their ashes breathe thine name still,

With each gracious step taken doth both carnations and sunflowers spring from Gaia.

Thereupon worship lasts an eternity,

So doth my soul follows wherever thou goes-

To bend Elysium and Tartarus is all I must do.

And still – still I return.

As tide is slave to the moon, as ash is drawn to flame,

So am I, endlessly, to thee.

O, caramia – to bathe in heavens delight is to gaze upon thine face under the moonlight

And to gaze is to be baptised in the quenching sea of seduction.

Art thou not mine canvas of perfection and dew-kissed doves?