Heat

The scent of heat soaked masonry
Envelops you. Forming out of hot clay a
sense of time.
Kiln-like, the golden rocks stand against the blue sky
As permanent as Mary
As the resurrected cathedral
With the gold and blue finding a different kind of worship

The scent of heat soaked masculinity
Suffocates you. Forming out of muscle a

sense of beauty.
Godlike, the man stretches his lithe body upwards
As hard as rock
As the stone in the ancient buried city
With the flesh and blood creating a
Different kind of worship

Let me embrace the rock and the gold:
Sighing inwardly, wishing to be your mould.
To take you into the heat of the sun’s desire
Wanton I lie here and simply admire.