the melting will happen
in the heat of your arms
where i will make it clear to you
with the arch of my back
and the clinging of my fingers
that the book of us
is yet to be written.
the melting will happen,
happen in space, and in time.
this is not a journey of
the brain, we have a physicality
that lusts for something other,
that cries for relief
from the singular story.
right now distance
is our aphrodisiac
as we send out our proxies,
the surges that alert us
of this being no ordinary fiction
but a fact as solid as
the truth in my eyes
and in my songs of yearning.
the melting will happen
and our appetites will be sated.
the melting will happen
and it will become our foundation.
the melting will happen.
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