A third and then bed


I watch the night. Can see, not tell, the stars
like nameless beads. And now the moon is set.
All nights are nights without her. I forget
as hours pass in rain the splash of cars

marks that I do not weep and yet that sound
so lachrymose so long as they recede
like tides and years. There’s something that I need
more than her lips, more than her legs around

my aching waist. Some way of stretching joy
each moment that I touch her hand or tease
HER with these songs. Oh gentle goddess please
assure me I am something more than toy

to her , make each kiss, every lonely tear
eternal truth all lovers will revere


About rozkaveney

Middleaged, trans, novelist, poet, activist
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One Response to A third and then bed

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