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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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