Your eyes, nowhere in time, an endless, ceaseless wave, caressing each moment, eternity, my heart, a throne, upon which your likeness sits, no name have you here though, but for Gaia, or Mary or Aphrodite's flame, there is nothing that remains of what I thought a love could be, Sandlewood, Silk and Tiger's fang, fill my senses beyond the scent, as I feel myself dissolving into the breath, inside the breath.

A water runs deep, carving stone to the sea, a serpents back, I caught a glimpse, rivers coarse with blood and beat, oh, the innocence that triumphs, when crowns are hewn from gold And thrones, in sacred union, adorn the gate of Temple's found.