All This Loose Ground

Such red roses
Must be growing
Amidst the thorns
Of your desire,
Dripping with the secret
Grapes of such passion

I will prevail
Over the monsters
That destroy me
And share perfumes
With you
In virgin gardens
Our love is preparing
From all this loose ground

I hold you
Beneath my fingers
Like a butterfly that trembles
The leaf it lands upon

But one day I will hold you
Like a leaf
And you the butterfly