We could be delicate, I suppose <br />(if we wanted to tiptoe around <br />each other for the rest of our years) <br />but I see no point in that. <br /> <br />We have lusted for the rain the whole of our lives <br />and hidden, already, far too many days, from the sun. <br /> <br />I think we’re done <br />with that. <br /> <br /> <br />There have been gods perched on the edge of our existence <br />waiting, near forever, for our eyes to fall upon them. <br />We have played in the cool quiet of their shadows <br />but never once dared <br />to speak their names. <br /> <br />This, too, <br />will change. <br /> <br /> <br />You have been embedding profundity <br />(and desire) <br />into our conversations for so long now that <br />I have grown heavy with it. <br />I am becoming more golden <br />with each sigh. <br /> <br /> <br />My offerings are simple, but eternal. <br /> <br />Our horizon <br />knows no shame. <br /> <br /> <br />We could be delicate, I suppose <br />but I see no need for that. <br /> <br />Forever is ours <br /> <br />For we have seen the gods <br />reflected in one another's eyes.<br /><br />Christine Austin Cole<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/reflecting-gods/
