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the last time

The last time was on the corner of the highway and your street.
You wore a blue-ringed t-shirt, a pair of denim cut shorts,
changed because you came
to see me off,
our backs up against the goodbye
Your satyr like legs against the gamine skirted me
Twice, once in the dusk deep tomb room
Again in the light after final words
     Be good…
We were so so such good, sweet lovers.

I called you from the pine-lined highway
to tell you I could still feel you, smell you,
as the traffic went whooshing by
and because you could not speak
I spoke the words to your Yes and your No
Can you still taste my kiss? Yes… yes…
I remember the sun settingon it’s bank then
I remember this: my body, did, does remember you
I remember you, August 5th, 3:30 p.m., there and then
before the sorrow of tomorrow
Shakespeare was right after all:
Thus with a kiss I died.
Forever I shall remain in this dusk
with marbles that are thine eyes
with alabaster are your hands
with saffron and wine that are your lips
my thigh a dancer’s high about your hip.
These things I will remember.
I shall remain, I shall wait.

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