the pleasured thrills of a
une liaison dangereuse
the mystery du triangle hypoténuse
two open, unended lines attached
to make a so interesting right (wrong) angle,
mais sans l'hypoténuse leur est pas de connectivité
indeed the hypotenuse hypothetical is crack for my brain
imagination steel furnace fired, molten are my fingers
as they trace the line you left for me on your body
to adore to cherish to lick to follow an arrow pointing
where?
to the heavenly pleasures that earth reside
in our differences substantial
which intrigue rather than
divide
opposites attract is true and not,
we could be
we could not be more unalike
that so excites for dreams only I can uncover
in the rounded shape of thine wide eyes
a horrific inserts
she is only teasing me
but the need to dance on the brink
the fulfillment that origins in a need perpetual
is the one that satisfies because it cannot
be fully satisfied
if you know this need, then you are mine bonded
beyond is at where the hypotenuse connect our lines,*
"we'd be beyond human, beyond poem, beyond horizon,
beyond stars and black holes and daisy-chains and metaphors
with nothing to say to say to an end, because it goes on, my dear, -- I'll see you at the brink...dance with me there"
a woman in the shape of a young girl,
her eyes wider than a grand boulevard,
who writes me in scattered verses I can’t comprehend
takes my hands in the metro on our way to
St. Germain-des-Pres, where she will make confession
she loves another, forgetting that was her first reveal
and why I now laugh/love her maintenant, plus complètement
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un jour je vous enverrai un message au parc Monceau à 1500 heures; être prêt