song of songs
that song
it always takes me back
sixteen with grazed knuckles
smiling innocuously at the tides
of the heart’s walking
looking for directions in
the vacuoles of the stumbles
many songs
at the heart’s breaking
the long teenage days flowing so fast
breaking on the rocks of the tide’s misadventures
boys with crusts as tough over the molten as
the eruptions of acne between the bristles
boiling over time after time
the song
at our hearts’ meeting
two open locks locked together
no keys to that eternal locking
so many doors opening in a closed world
binary stars collapsing
into a golden whole
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