Reader in the Mountains

They do not see, wolf That love and ire Are two flames of the same fire That when your packs stand as sentinel in unison The edges of forest bow  with honour running down its rivers Your cleaving claws also caress Mighty skies blowing the trumpet of your vigor They do not see, girl That feminine and Lupine Are two sides of the same coin That when you run  with your tresses flowing in the wind The scent of ancient Amazons runs amok in ecstasy Your footprints revered by warriors Tribes of constellations following your lead They do not see, love That when you race wind amidst the valleys That when you howl to the moon from a cliff The two parts of you are in unison That you're both the sky and the storm  You're both the moon and the howl

Two mirrors dug into the sand Both sat facing the sea One reflecting the water cyan One bespeaking the sky's infinity One spoke of the foamy waves The weeds floating anarchic The shells tossed onto the beach The deepest water, the darkest ink The other sighed at the clouds And the seagulls swishing around Wings of the plane turning trajectory And it's gurgling heaving sound The waves never met the clouds  The ink never sprayed the seagull The shells remained buried in the sand  The gurgling slowly went feeble The mirrors couldn't stretch or spring Neither did they curve into attempt Disagreement leads to distrust And it gives way to contempt One would never know that the other  Held his heart inside the glass And it was unequivocally similar To what his own heart did encompass It's better to have loved and lost Than to have missed it by a dribble A fleck of sand beneath one mirror Or a turn of face of the other Two mirrors buried into the sand Dug inside them- halves of...