She is dying to be seen,
scorched earth and heavy lids.
She is the first rainfall, dripping on the
cracked lips of a stranded crew.
Open to Her,
taste her,
let her quench your thirst.
Show her your hidden parts,
to be nourished,
nurtured,
healed,
in the purifying fire of
erotic desire,
She is here.
Do you see her?
Do you see her?
She holds out her hand,
for eternity,
palm up to receive,
reborn with your love,
in each immortal moment,
the phoenix rising from her ashes,
knowing no truth but
the here and now.
She will show you Heaven,
if you can meet amongst
the stars.
Sitting on a chair,
reading in a store,
floating on the air,
waiting to embrace
the possibility of
salvation.
Our heroes always have a love story.
Reflections from the Future 