I.
your molecules
met my molecules
and said,
"we ought to dance."
and I thought,
oh, well - why not?
I might not get the chance
again. and so began
a tangoed fray
lasting nigh on fourteen days
and ended with élan.
we pulled apart
our particles
with Godless dreamy articles -
so a/the/an
upon our lips.
our rods and cones
flowered into iris blooms
lit by fireworks at night
and neurons fire
flares like air-
borne phoenixes in flight.

II.
he preferred
to think of her
as someone he had known;
but ever thinking
none too deeply
his light had never shown
as anything but lust, for her
mind was sealed away
with betrayals of past days,
and so he never understood -
and true, so few would ever; could -
who he bestowed kisses to...
love, he never did admit,
and nor did she;
it was something - not for them.
a lust'red rose without a stem
doesn't bloom, never lives
beyond a fading dream:
they waded through the stream
together, pant legs rolled;
their relationship of brevity, eternity
in memory, unable to grow (c)old.

TMK 3aug2007