Fleeting

By the time it has happened
it is already over.
Carelessness leads to another thing
and I cannot stop time,
no, not even for this.

Your warm breast presses against
my cold un-nurturing arm,
I sense but feel nothing.

Yet there is this strange joy,
subdued elation, inner ecstasy.
But this experience is forbidden,
impossible but contradictory.

I construct these strange
features around me to
support my figments of imagination.

Your arm crosses unto
mine, albeit
I don’t know why.
What a strange and
unfamiliar experience.

by Mattheus Lee

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