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Succulent is the night in its warm colors

I have dreamed of forever before

The Earth may only stand for one more minute

But inside of that we can escape

Ornate is the mirror through which we travel

Like silver tides against our waist

My heart is a diamond waiting to explode

Take me to your crystal landscape

There in the lost city

I will compose a letter to my former self

and sign it as an anonymous friend

And the many days spent thereafter

will be on a coast of love

in the most literal sense

collecting strange plants and rare species

And there will be afternoon travelers but none who will last very long