Unwilling the pain of shared listening,  their flesh one
go the closed voices only into lovers warm drunken secrets
painful of imagination’s beauty, which knows rare echoes of the words
their lips listened, covetous of real angels token posturing
lovely sweat pouring, like children's hearts pound effortlessly
paths again melting, into the delicate thrill of the still-ordinary
already the transformation, into sweet bruising elation
playful caressing of the passions we empty summer lives into
where all existence strolls fragrant, blossoms from the discovery of it
building up bliss, ceasing breathing, his first friction becoming
imagined time-telling giddy kisses, given and held by her eyes
in this electric universe, purchased time and again
with breath of the impossible imagined.