whispers to moonlight

O, Sweet ray of moonlight!

You know that no single word means anything at this moment.

Leave our robes draped on the tile.  They have no use, after all.

A false caress hisses over each pore promising lies of affection.

Hand against skin grabs its fill – engulfs, possesses, more.

My eyes wide beg for your light as it bathes me in your fusion

and I remain suspended, broken, less.

Yet emotion is expected,

and so feigned,

in this numb emptiness of every moment in his indifference.

001.

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