The Storyteller

I have loved you a thousand times
Cared not a whit you were not mine
The wise men say I dove too deep
But fools can swim and breathe in sleep
Under the blue, under the air
Magicians we can conjure where
The slightest sigh above the floor
Is like a scream we do bear more
Interest to cease
Desire within split seconds of a pause so thin
This shooting breathes like molten glass
And so we blow it is our task
To tender well the shyest need
The silent prayer as thought were deed