Undiminished Memories of Recklessness in Disguise

Artwork by Daniel Johnson

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It is intensity that scorches the heart (not sorrow)

And pitch which measures our pain
alas, quite without the intention
through devotion
we fucked (over)
each other again
It was not the love
that was wrong,
but the need
was not right
as we danced
to a discordant melody
our dance steps cloaked
doubt
and abject fears of flight
while the lover’s
embrace dissimulated
a fairy tale frivolity
of purest delight
Claustrophobia was
our sanctuary
memory begets
only tears
for secrets
undiminished
un-embalmed
inviolable
in spite of the years

Author: Politrixie

Politrixie the Political Mistress is a blogger, reader, poet and feminist. I am a mistress of mischief, an arty scholar and an Ivy League heffa.

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