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Hush, hush my love, and let me drool
inside the time-worn and exotic pool
of molten lava, made by horny elves
where time stands, strangely, still for ourselves.
Abandon reason and the thought of all tomorrows
and look to me as one who humbly borrows
the thought of you, the touch of apparition
and slithered helplessly into this passive mission.
Born with a strength of ego and worldly autonomy
renounce the bonds to what it is a mortal be
by giving in to whims of those who rule
and being without self the proper fool.
Thus I am you and you must hold your hand
halfway across the swollen river, catch your breath
and either dropp our heart of hearts to certain death
or weld your fingers to my palms and I shall be
the one for you, forever, you the one for me.
Herbert Nehrlich
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