Coincidental Moon

How do we never forget and always pine
For words that wander around sublime
As years dissolve with each boy and girl
That reminds us both that we’re designed

To laugh and lust and scream like wild
Ravenous animals whose blood is riled
By what seems innocuous
When our number’s dialed?

Questions become desire like how a child grows. Beginning steeped in blood and rising with each moment until enough curiosity and shadowy hints feeds the tease and it blooms into a beautiful monster, starving for substance and fleshy answers. There is a particular roiling that begins in the stomach and then rises up through the throat then out the mouth and it’s a cloud of fury, a stunning vapor of words that begs questions, delivers demands and exposes the reasons why we come together.

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