carved painfully out of
quiet moonstones, we glare
like the middle of the night,
armored in nothingness
and cloaked by our own
spirited desires, jumping
back and forth to thoughtless
cautions, the darkness
flagging a warning sign -
of greens and reds, of
stops and gos, to and
from the pensive twilight
we both so yearn for,
chaotically hungry for more.
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