Secrets In My Shoes

I met my lover in London
Thigh deep in sage and scarlet roses
Shaken by the river’s thrush tavern
Twilight in the brushes that combed her hair

The drifting thorns in the blackness, vouching
Adrift in the sake that shifts into the far horizon
The whirlpool of the streams amongst the shadows
Cradled in pleasures beneath the falling stars

Thus London, I figured, was my haven:
Vanishing music, twilight liquor
A stealthy recitation of the present
Poured into the goblets by vestal laughter

The precious songs that our tongues spoke in rivers
To licking the chords that is native to our deep desires
Overflowing in volumes of ecstasy that are borrowed
Throughout flourishing dismissal, spelled out in vowels

I swallow my worth into your enlisting embraces
Nested near the nightly, biblical reasons that we planted
Like breaching ears in the wake of acres in season
Counting the days while each wrath follows me around

by Jason PraTT

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