Naboth's Vineyard
She was naked, I not yet.
Standing in the shadows,
sitting in the sun.
We heard the echoes of the
stones that killed Naboth,
as we curled like his once beloved vines
into a ripening of sorts.
The King of Samaria stood over us,
weak from the fast,
and burdened with guilt.
He looked me in the eyes;
with fire in my soul
I fought this man
named Ahab victoriously.
While she bathed in dreams
of yesteryear,
the vineyard disappeared.
I held her 'til sunrise,
then we departed,
she looking forward,
I shyly back,
as we went our separate ways,
drenched in dreams
and aching truths.