The Mystery of Union

Hold her sweet under the flow
Holding up her reach
Into the evening airfolds
You may step onto my hands
If you were to pluck the pears
Off into a bowl
Now that you've come near
I have a song for you to hear
While we are sewn

Holster sweeter as the flow
Holding all I have not the free hands to hold
She would walk atop my hands
Come the time to flip the light hung in the hall
The fruits and lights so carefully hung
To be as tall as a person with another