ode to lovers i


like moths towards a headlight on a dusty road
we propel towards each other  tragically 
hopeful that the flickers

we have flared in each other are steady gravity
for a luminous life. a soft glance 
(between us) has become ignition

to primal sensitivity. and what with all these titles
we have gathered and labels we have imposed 
on each other  each a  testament 

to the ideals  we so long for and hope
to become — still obscurity lingers
and now, we find ourselves laying still;

mangled bodies on a dusty road
oblivious to the grey sky above, and its gathering clouds
oblivious to the linear planted cypress trees running

by the thousands, on and on, crouching toward darkness
pointed skyward, howling against a cold wind
and a cold moon

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