"A limited edition lust.
How do you reciprocate the act of smothering?
Control spawns jewelry made from breaths rubbing
the mirror clean and dry.
One looks peaceful.
While the other peeks out from behind a clumsy shadow
in pursuit of independence.
I watched the penmanship begin to falter into age that he
could not resemble perfectly.
A gentleman stepped from the shower
with a pensiveness less shareable than certain,
misting some of the occasion.
No one's certain who he was.
Few write letters anymore, much less love
tunes that flow from left to right on five-lined sheets.
The fabric strays from clarity to something
sweet to touch as this companionship.
A limited edition lust shifts conversation
from a breezeway to a bold alert for rationing.
Most of the men considered themselves heat lamps.
Most of the women did not seek the sun.
Who does not seem truly seem interesting beside a crowd
of strangers?
Someone truly interesting."