Selbstverbannung
Whispering caresses testify
under duress with somber
adoration.
How many sonnets have I
forgotten
while tracing the
contours of your shape?
Your slick fragrance disarms my
resolve; I yearn to
bottle such essence
if only to keep a suggestion of
us in the face of certain
obliteration.
For once the skitter and
the titter consume with
fangs of speculation, we
shall doubt
what we’ve begun
in earnest
under the moon,
the trust of synchronized
pulses seeking
harmony,
and the explosive
thrill of shared
desire
until nothing
remains.
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