I love to languish
in the sheer depth
of your language, dear mistress

I clutch your memory
strong
like new fists when we're
born
when your scent mounts
the air, I wake
like ears to a song, and
cast my soul like nets
to trap the silhouettes
of together days
that are gone

time fights to tame my
coolest warm
with elastic reason and logic
that swarms to
subdue my fantasies like
dreams.are.at.dawn

our glass memories,
however,
endure
the pugnacity of
bombs.