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Three days to you

I can't know who you are
without my hands on you,
watching your face in the light
we make lying together.

The history of hopes betrayed
twist you into
soul mate and illusion.

Constant rubbing of thoughts
against the fantasy
makes you hate me,
me reject you,
me dizzy with
desire and contempt.

I will make conclusions and promises
when your mouth is on mine
planning the future
with your legs around me

Your voice in the morning
your still presence
compactly taking all the space of my imagination.


Posted 12/20/2000; © 2000 John P. Nordin. Do not copy.