part two

thick lashes and let-me eyes:
sleepy poppin n’ lockin prince
in semidarkness, pretending clandestine
through permitted encounters
on the bedroom floor, in the car,
beneath the fattest fucking full moon in history–

on the living room sofa, and at last
in my arms, in my own bed that still smells like you
if i tilt my head a certain way,

o soft king-child, sensuous jester,
nails in my shoulders and teeth in my neck

i could have–
might have–
would have loved you,

had i let me


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