a perilous evening’s provocation

do you remember
dancing– I didn’t mind
when you returned a glance
cast your way
you’d been born
to be admired
tho, they’d never understand
and those moments
in which
the silence
held us
to this day
to this day
I think upon a perilous evening’s provocation
the sinuous twirl of your linen’s soft rough
aye, a fistful of sepia tresses
as cicadas craw outside the window
bleating, until the frantic cacophony
gathers into asynchronous rhythm–
as once did
the silence

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