Midas
A pillow sweet enough
To make your Midas weep.
Leaving my prints
On porcelain spheres.
I would give more.
I would take more.
But that world is not mine.
These rags cannot hold water
Enough to teach my lips
The taste of summer.
I would gain more.
I would lose more.
To solstice I will take
My treasured marble dust.
Shadows on the grass
Will hold my empty hands.
I would love you more.
To make your Midas weep.
Leaving my prints
On porcelain spheres.
I would give more.
I would take more.
But that world is not mine.
These rags cannot hold water
Enough to teach my lips
The taste of summer.
I would gain more.
I would lose more.
To solstice I will take
My treasured marble dust.
Shadows on the grass
Will hold my empty hands.
I would love you more.
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