Red, luscious, umber findings
cast a vision to your mind.
In all my search for sending
evocations to your arms
of poignant love and crisp, new lust
to linger through a storm.
One that could last forever
and penetrate your own
metallic need for something deep.
In essence and in scent.
Only an imagining of a catalyst for such profundity
have I the power to you lend.
Certainly you have your own,
I feel it from you even in your absence.
I’ll trust then in your reception of mine,
though all the moth-dust and pigeons the world over
Might not wing my message to you
If it is not in their hearts.
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