Every wild animal according to its kind

Our invisible machinations march through the hours,

thinking of nothing so that nothing might become

of my madness, your furtivity, and our stinkingly dour

stoicism bereft of feelings for two lovers’ sum:

still I am lingering in the room too long,

feel your eyes beleaguer after the Sun is gone

just as my mind wanders into a righteous wrong

of probing the mysteries, a starless swan song.

Let it pass: this misery shared as an unwitting pillow,

let us die prior to the coming of puny death throes

since the moments ahead will topple love below,

since igneous lust sans luster but flittingly glows.

Let me hold my gems as do you,

since surfeit would soon our home deluge.