
November knocks
precipitating a gloom
our embrace— “No one’s home!”
on the couch, we radiate
fall can wait; we mull over
sugar, spice, and love
As night turns to day—a tryst becomes a stay. Clothes strewn across the floor, a breadcrumb trail for Lust to find her way. Sunlight beams through the window and into two lovers’ hearts.
A stirring of bodies, a hand glides over another. The electricity of the night before sparks like flint against steel and radiates outwards. The quiet, morning tension broken by the chirps of a passionate, morning chorus. Accidental voyeurs to a second sin.
The cardinal sings
of carnal sin—a climax
we’re lost in song
The definition of insanity
is fractal
Love can be a madness
beyond bodily comprehension
Love can be dangerous
a serpentine embrace
leaving you breathless
Love can be the acnestis
of a heart forever chasing
that virgin storm
The definition of love
is fractal