To Catch a Breath

Words on a prison made of beautiful jewels.

under the savory blue we lay;
from clouds like synths
playing high

beyond them another awaits;
the myths know no end of days,
no pause, no self-reflection,
no attunement lest it be spoken

your eyes, never an end to mine
flutter tirelessly drunk in mirrors;
must it ever be true
all as lovers at first sight?