His hair as red as fire,
His eyes like burning coals.
His smile blinding, evanescent.
His laugher layered by his joy
and his spirit wrestles with the evening
as love fires levitate.
and his quiet thoughts explode in vision
Morning comes, he hesitates.
His burning hair
his sun stroked eyes
his gentle laugh,
his somber cries
and his spirit dances with the tide
as passion builds, rejuvenates
and song birds flounder on the wind,
Morning comes and love begins..