In theory
we rot from first inhale
as all things must die
but not all things
leave a exhale
that they lived.
I let you in
like sugary
legerdemain
begging for a
sliver of you
to know an
old memory of us
unified as a
silken ahhhh,
that hypnotic pause
in the happy chaos
away from encased fear,
born in the nod of
carte blanche
demureness
sleek and majestic
the rippled resonance
strumming émigré chords
commixing
phlogiston whimpers
binding our
infused essence,
we,
I,
already bled
for your hunger
when I stymied
my own glow
so your simper will burn
beyond your gold,
true love dies
when only one
inhales it,
for the truest love
will never leave
where it\'s already had it.
The Guff.
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