i'm passionate
about your shoes
dangling like participles
and me being proper
i sneak only a few furtive glances
but they dance
around my ears in counterclockwise form
when you let me
enter a forest that's more warm
than the hands of deserts
the second skin of silk you wear
will be the softness that frames my face and speech
my desire dangles
like your shoes do
as we flirt
and set our minds
to love among the comets that sleep.
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