Limerance

In bed buried underneath

Your kinetic architecture

I feel our distinctions dissolve.

Your pulse, a baptism

For which I nightly undress,

How can a virgin be pure

Having never known

A love like this?

 

Wherever the heart exists

There is art.

I ply my trade in your flesh,

A magician of sorts.

Your bones whine

As cumbersome pipes.

There is a universe

Within each of us

A constellation of mirrors,

Your eyes abduct

As much as they reveal.

 

You are the aether within

My beckoning crux.

I will swallow you whole,

I will thread my contagion

Into your libido,

I will recite the sublimations

Of your eternal limerance.

Nothing synthetic parallels

The heat of a genuine fire.

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5 responses to “Limerance

  1. Very powerful images, too many to pick a favourite! I loved imagining a “kinetic achitecture” and I loved this :”I ply my trade in your flesh,

    A magician of sorts.”

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