Scarlet
Scarlet
If I whisper that your soul
Is ancient, like
Those thousand Egyptian pyramids,
Do you promise to acknowledge it?
Aren't you those thousand splendid suns which
Bring the Russian winter forest
Toward that?
If analogies come to reality, your eyes would look
As exotic as a Syrian sunset.
How do you meet a medieval romance
In the middle of nowhere?
You look like some unspoken prayer.
If you'd let me breathe motifs
Against your skin, I'd
Craft you a bouquet of poppies
And dahlias.
Don't you taste like lost traditions
And forgotten legends; like
Fingers dipped into extinct
Cultures, and villages
Which are not on the maps?
If I wear your scent around
My wrists like some Mardi Gras bracelet,
Would you
Blush scarlet, all over again?