Preparing for Stage 4

Our love is a hashtag gone viral.

And its repercussive blows,
it is expended, rejuvenated, and explored.
I never will ignore you.

But bounty in a lavish age,
while girls play dolls and boys are gay;
this transformative reaction
to necessary inaction;
causes justification of an illusive strategy.

My mouth is so dry,
I am thirsty for your lips;
for the measure of your hips,
and my lock of your hair,
and a photograph of your face
to turn my emotions into words.

Run emotions into entropy.
And spread myself; these wings of love,
so I may carry the message of a dying star,
burning hot and wild in a black and frigid night,

Your touch drives me mad,
because I can’t have…

You.

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