Sheila’s Heights

A prayer from the Daughter of Heights, Sheila,
To the keeper of mysterious dawn:
Bloom for me in my boundless haven,
A wild language,
Worthy of a Rosetta Stone,
And Melissa’s heart longs for the lisp
of its letters,
For in subtle lapsus,
Resides her own tone:
In Sheila’s eyes, a hidden yearning,
Secrets passing to you,
Mural carvings
Etched by wonder for your view,
And in her evening song,
A revived Babylon,
If only you knew the path
To her wounded sighs.