In our mutual, mortal done undone, doing undoing push me, pull you racing to ruin 5 past our curfew laughing and cordial we collapse together and make our midnights burn with a thousand torching 10 touching suns, and when the night clock is done and old time runs into new day begun and cool spring is 15 into hot summer come in picnic weather we tongue and fiddle together breathless, apart no better-- my heart! 20 how we sweat to sighing on sweet myrtle purple and cry "no more, we're sore!" and pant like raced-out panthers 25 at skies and ceilings on our wringing backs-- but like a turtle we turn over and swim some more 30 with sheets for water. Are we making sons or daughters? "None of wily neither!" and we chorus laughter.
From the collection "The Rose Lasso"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.