Hands to Hold

Taken to the breath of your ocean's breeze,
Comforted in the prose of love's greatest enchantment,
I feel the touch and the glimmer in your eyes;
Your spell is cast;
Resistance is futile.
In all that is pain in words, emotions, and flesh,
A firewall of bemusement besets my mind to reeling.
I feel no longer of "my" world,
But of a world lost in the Kayoss of development.
Of my own voice do I come to your shore,
A little boy wandering aimless in your intoxicating sand;
The sweet aura from which I tipple indulgently;
The arcane beauty on which my eyes delight;
A love to wade me through the deepest waters.
Your Argus shall I forever be,
One in touch with your darkest fears.
As you, too, have harbored my enigma,
And braced me against the nefarious storm.
We both have touched the lives of betrayal and denial,
To be washed in the ever-glowing stream of love's redemption.
If not for our sake,
Then for the sake of our felicitous currency,
A patience to embody and hold dear,
To never let go the hands that hold tight.


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