My face pressed against
-- the softest walls
the creamiest colour
of Earth
His skin --
Like med-is-in
to my furrowed brow
T'was like ev'rything would be alright
with the stars
that night
& the dreams
of clouded visions
dissolved into what the poet's needs-must:
becoming
His skin
like poison
to my solitude
Woe is he who dare not drink of this elixir:
arrows dipped in honey
sent aloft the wings of something unnameable
Angelic in its betrayal of the coarse
Luciferous in its lure of the in-fine-ite
I love him
My animal soul
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