the fires burn in differing forms
onto the lips of mouths
the madeleines are warm
cigar box guitars are singing
whilst the lines are forming
and all those gentle butterfly windstorms are coming
the red eyed tides are rising
our mirrors indicate a reflection shining
and slowly, ever so slowly, we breathe…
just the smallest taste of air
born from the foamy essence of wishes
a collaboration in this hour of tenderness
four arms wrapped and visionless
and so shall we see
for as it was, and may never be
sliding from shore to shore
like so many suns arising
their shores so forlornly salted
but i am still wishing
and while these wishes i have
they come indifferent and torn
there is but one thing in common
in the sight of love they were born
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 9/30/14
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