frantic
hands ripping through air
reaching for a grasp
on your sadness

I have been
will be
am
enraptured in your temperature.
contented in contempt
for your fairytale past
impossible
to impact

yet coveting the forbidden
taste
of imprints
in your reality
sparks a dorment sentiment
of such coarse,
rough reciprocity

tempting taste of your bliss
come close
and through shifting smoke
we can descend into
crude togetherness