La Luna di Miele

Bridge after bridge and naked hill
Turn toward him I seem to tremble
Loud waters finding myself more
Together we search the tangled shore
A mile or a little less he leaps aside
Late in the afternoon an angry cry
Poorly worded such things were said
Thought and uttered, “Why should I beg?”

The rumble; sorrowfully separate
From paradise I never expected

Long or short shooting death glares
In furious heat it became clear…

Must. Not. Think.

Then, undisturbed we slept together
White statues, anthromorphic figures

The moon is on the water somewhere
It must be over there

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