As seeping water cupped between my hands,
My hopes and tawdry dreams have ever been.
Some fallow trace lies light in other lands,
The remnant, silent now, so seldom seen.
But still the embers flared a fiery red
The day your breath fell first upon my skin.
A Lazarus arisen from the dead,
Your kiss of life has bid me live again.
For love, in aura, rays from you each dawn
And all you meet are free to act their part;
But being of a lower, baser, mien
I thought to own alone your sacred heart.
Now soon enough the final journey home.
I fear to cross that Bosphoros alone.