Usurpation of a universe unwound,
        see our past, see now a passion,
see those seasons
in reverse,

pause now at our first gilded glance,
see the story told by slow motion segue the silent gaze of sacred smiles

forward now
for pillow bites and midnight
saliva, arched back muffled *******,
don't let your man hear that
sound:::  

every day we would crucify “the self” on a carnal cross of
butterfly stomachs
and magic morning messages


now we long for a time
of
steamed windows, pressed handprints, prologued by the type of arcane lust confessionals that saturate the seams of ******* till the cotton thread
sees through

she still had nervous eyes when her finger tips said
   "again"