Just a week ago tomorrow
we stole those precious minutes
in that loft-room
jailed hideaway.

Months of fevered anticipation
preparation, perspiration
cunning and crimes
to get me back inside you.

Doors locked stories straight
what-if bases covered
to have few mystic memories
you were solely mine.

Escape from our tribes
momentary melting us
perfect pose perfect pause
until you slip away.

I covet the first through fifth
the post euphoric float
but the sixth day weakens
spinning down into dirt.

The empty settles back
the separation cements 'till
imprisoned ache's extrication
brings my love again.