I wish people could see this full size...This was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen...It makes me cry to see it again, it reminds me to write again too...I wish I could post the poem with it so people could understand, but its about two people who bury themselves beneath the earth....with nothing but dirt and twigs and leaves....Great great work....so symbolic, so visual.

i have reposted the image so that it can be viewed all at once. i'm learning as to what sizes post best.

"The Kiss" By Syyd Raven Walking down streets where we first met, I grow lost and tired, but I can smell you in the air and I am hungry for kisses of Chocolate and cinnamon. I find you inside fall, buried beneath the shallow ground where you wait to hold me to you in our dirt sarcophagus. Staring up at stars you lay leaves atop our bodies, blanketing us with the red and yellow trees, tucked safely into brilliant night. Watching sky, you give me words of your life charted point to point by the great Orion. The wind begins to blow a softly foretelling winter of imminent returns and we can hear them calling for us, from high above the rooftops in the city where we first met.. To them we are lost, but this is not true. We have found each other and bless the abundant fertile earth with our naked kisses. When the leaves scatter to whisper our names down narrow streets, you speak in quiet seriousness of the multitudes who will come to tear at us, to destroy our harvest. You lay your cocoa flesh atop my milky body. Wait for winter, you say, I will cover you in white, and make you my bride, disappearing below, pressed together into the earth will come seasons, and we can count the days with love and stories, lulled to sleep far beneath the hurried chaos of footsteps that pound like giants atop the brown and buried ceiling of our fragile, earthen home. Our myths are no longer secrets. Our stories have become one, and we burrow deeper, sleeping lovers. When spring brings cold blue mornings we drink from shallow brooks. We are clear now like water, fresh and pure, unfettered by dirt and the world of men who tried so hard to pry open our strong hearts, making us spill forth blood sacrifice. Waiting for dark, we stay in the woods, listening to summer. We swim across the warm river of souls, reaching the other side, climbing up the hill, singing to those that sprang forth from us. In the city of prisons where little children dream beneath the yellow august moon, one by one, they awake to the music of forever. Opening windows, perching on sills, four that resemble you and I spread tiny wings and fly off into the sky. Dancing feet covered in poppies look up to see fireflies. Hands joining and rejoicing, we make our family there beneath natures grace. We belong now only to the marriage of earth and sky.

this is a most amazing work to go with such an incridible poem. i am surprised more have not commented or made it their favorite. your early works and postings are amazing