cape of sunset

when the day turns to violet and dust
there, decorated by street lamps
you rest regally
the wind plays a flute song
filling in the cavities
a man with desire has
with hand-wrought lead, brown sugar
and verses written by the waiting pucker
of your lips
let me hold you
as the cape of sunset
twirls behind your hair
and let us close our eyes
so that song begins
with verses written by the meeting of our lips
one that people will hear
only when we mention the other’s name


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