Carved from a lone stem in the woods
I am the empty flute on your lips.
My stillness plays your tune’s allure.
With each note I grow
More and more hollow,
Void of all I have loved and been.
And now this wood is you
Kissed and spoken for,
The breathless mate of your smile.
And this is my bliss,
To be still in your stillness,
A plaything in your play.
Song of a hollow self,
Stream of nectar and honey
Flowing through my limbs,
Carved from a lone stem in the woods…