The temperature crawls through the room.
I swallow you, like a glass of water.
On the floor, our deserted clothes rest comfortably
as a sleeping husband recovering from a cardiac event.
Your unattainable beauty, un-caged,
feral eyes, empty as a desert.
I swim through this deliberate amnesia,
this moment of fire forgetting flame.
Outside, the rain, a felled forest,
buildings, glistening bayonets,
I vow to keep our secret hidden from the gods.
Who would tell them? you ask.
Who would they punish, if they knew?
Appeared in Camroc Press Review, September, 2015
