The past is finished.
That gentle, decadent fragrance near the fauna and petals
is nebulous. Part of me's lured, the other possibly rebels
The weight of life lifted, your image...is a cosmic crescendo.
Dancing with heaven, dancing through veils; dancing under the moon...
It's too cliche to say I'd make you breathe, plummet and swoon.
I just need you for a second. maybe a hundred or two
Before life's winters return and my hunger ensues.
Life's fickle, a game we whisper in our thundering moods
but time crawls in your presence.
The only wonder is you
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