An Island of You

An Island of You The dunes of your shoulders Rising up towards the heavens, Only for your arms to slope downward in strong deliberations. Knuckles that are tiny mountains Arching over the plains of your hands. Grey-blue whirlpools Reflecting the heart and penetrating mine. A showcase of the mind, A hurricane of conceptions and ideals. Wisdom sprawling at the edges Like ivy wanting to take root and take over. Lips, when in motion, Parting like the Red Sea of old. Old. The likeness of your soul. Tormented by the way things are. Delighting in the Truth. Yes, if I were stuck on an island, All I should need or want is the Island itself.