We were reckless with love.

Swans dancing on a lake of fire;
unfinished art searching for the
Louvre.

Quiet & loud.

Hungry & fed.

Bones full of broken stars
and twilight;

sapiosexual
astronomers
with the temerity
to traverse galaxies
hidden between the
braille on our skin,

foolish enough to believe
desire this strong would
take a half-life to
decay.

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