Skyclad evaporations

The sheets,    
crisp when you lay me down,  
twist damply  
in blatant rebellion  
against the silent promise  
that lust would eat us
like acid rain  
and nothing more.  
   
Nothing more.  
   
but lust,    
all consuming,  
relentless,  
crazed,  
was but a prelude,  
   
and our osmosis to the sky    
didn't hang romantic  
shining soul-lights    
in a mythic blue haze    
   
it punched holes in the    
dark umbrella of never;  
it thundered to life drowned suns    
in the chaos of always;  
it cut combusting nebulas  
from the pleasure screams of pain    
caging against the    
walls of our bedroom,  
   
like lightning  
hitting    
standing  
water.  
And I come  
   
(my god,    
baby,    
yes,  
please,  
there…)  
   
apart  
   
at the shockwave.  
   
I come with you again  
as you roll me over  
so I can rain a little  
hell from the sky,  
and I mean to  
make you suffer    
   
but instead    
   
I sigh  
love words  
like a soft rain    
against the    
sweat-stained    
headboard  
   
Baby,    
(yes…)  
   
Baby, we've punched holes in the    
umbrella of the universe,  
flooded the world  
(my world)  
and ascended.  
   
Here, now, in our    
beautiful constellation,    
we can see our breath  
as a mist  
through the    
black lights  
of the sky    
   
and baby,  
(my love)  
those lights  
bleed beautifully    
from our heaven