“Kisses on the Hunt”
An addiction is a cure.
A craving: a promise.
Make me a home and safe.
and ponds for our love, dovetails
an easy exchange of medals
but your glory grew dusty
your prehistoric wings disused
who’ll need to regret
for people like me
for people like you
are comfortable with no one
it’s risen and raised beds
after diamond ring and bells do ring
under chandelier and champagne
the dull attitudes
shifting to a deeper boredom
one light is all I ask of you
in the bone-dry mountains
fed by an inward stream.