in an instant
we are aware
if we are–
by another
for that which we are
or if we ever shall be
pardoned, our imperfection
tho oft times, we stay
with each, our reasons
in a secret ocean’s
hidden cove
I swam with an angel–
never thinking
of breathing
as we were both submerged
wet, and gleaming
her braids of gold
becoming gossamer twists
shifting, weightless
in the whispering
beneath that silent sea
“follow me”
she implored
tho I never touched upon her
aye, never dared caress
her alabastrine skin’s
supple wishfulness
maintaining– a sheltering
distanced proximity
and when breaching
the waves, the waves
stood taller
than all of our shames
rising, rising
only to fall again
into the the salty thirst
as is
the fate of each
and up upon the tilting beach
two old ghost-dogs, paired
both, once, my own
circled me, and whimpered
calling me home
when then awakened
I’d been alone
and I’d been grateful
that I needn’t lie
nor need I be

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