PAS DE DEUX
You’re my only prayer:
wrapped in surpassing praise,
adorned with desires.
I’m tired: your perfume,
pleasing as a ripe pressed peach,
enlivens and lifts.
Transatlantic songs
like up-close dirty dancing:
electrotherapy.
She whispers, "Last time ..."
Alas
last times linger,
never last
Author notes
An anatomy of a love affair, exemplified by the Last Dance on the occasion of her birthday [31st. May]
Comments
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last times linger - never last. I'll have that on my headstone please. x


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I adore this! You use rhythm, form and connotation to express the ideas brilliantly.
This is like some of my poetry...hmm...*inspired*
One thing: author notes, you might want to re-read the description. Thanks for entering.



