the post midnight air thick with
critter calls humidity and humiliation
the Pond Mills dock that rickety
collection of baby teeth boards
barely missing kissing the softly
lapping waves even in that
blackness with only the barest
shard of the moon cascading
along the breeze your brow
shone gold like the afternoon
sun a brazier of passion which
glowed across our features in
the night visible and vibrant
from vast distances you burned
while we reflected fading in puffs
of steam like the last gasps of
a fish flapping impotently on
the dock your words rippled
across the pond surface leaving
naked vacuum in their wake
trilling frogs and longslept cicadas
slowly filled the hollow night
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