Feint. Inglorious
to the thuds of forms
against the gentle earth.
One blooming pair of lips
are rounded in flesh,
born to undress
one body dressed in black.
With all the tears of Neptune,
sighing in eternity’s doom.
For arms, lovers walked
without miles to skip.
Under stars, lovers talked
caught in the moonlight’s anchor
that brought them buried
elsewhere.
For toil,
above the soil,
she carried his heart
far into the dark.
Holding him with the moon
at her uncovered back,
with sunlight shading into black.
When a fly rested on his mouth
within the bright rays of fever,
he implored her to depart
backwards, towards the start.
Here, in the nude.
The red, swollen eyes
left behind the fallen skies.
No kiss to the wound
receded love with the waves,
nor a farewell from palms on the shore.
Upon the bank, in barest sunrise,
she bandaged him to the blue,
the cool touch
of reaching tides.
Modern Romanticism 
So lovely and atmospheric
LikeLike