...
This would be our last hoorah
This would be our solo foray
into the wave where words
are not tainted and love
is not stained
Let us come up
from the sea
In the light of day
let us
be
brave
2.
Not brave
No knight stands before you
only the mirage-twisted, fright filled knave
To see you is not
simply torture
it is my crucifixion
The curls upon my brow
convolve
bristles jimmying
into the emulsified core
where memory
waits
my hands upon you
hands that would clasp and then compound as cement
into that sweet honeyed nave
into your crystal prism intemerate cave
or the foot and heel -steel
wailing against brittle molded bone...
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