10 minute sonnet 001, 05-19-2016 - "I want to wash away the sorrow"

I want to wash away the sorrow
from your whetted wings. I wish to slip
the dew from your green tongue, and ship
away the fragments of your past. Follow

my lead, I'll take you where the fears deserve
to sleep, the cave of skies where all intent
is one with pure rest, where shadows are bent
out of floors and walls, 3-D shapes that carve

to your tired body. Alas, it's the fool
who knows the book but tries with lies to read
between the lines in search of fevered dead:
He seeks the worst, cuts lizards' necks to cool

his rotten hands. Not one more could he love,
yet I swelter under the hushed breath of doves.