Don't Rush.

Our template, dropped down from Eden,

a shower of stars,

knocking us both to the cold sweet ground,

unconscious of yesterday,

in denial of tomorrow,

born for today.

You give your ribs an itch,

I come closer,

"You are the apple of my eye" you say,

I believe you. 

I've always believed in you.

When did fear slither in, do you remember?

Feeling ashamed and not enough, I ran to hide.

When in your arms it was where I felt safest.

I fell, and you followed.

Yet our Tree, it whispers still,

sweet nothings into the ears of every minute that goes by,

and on my heart, is carved only but thine.

My Adam, don't rush,

we've always been together.

And I'll always come back to you.