amidst all imagined grandeur
we’ve had no hand in.
Rife with finest needs —
to ponder, to practice, and to play — ripe
to the bursting;
struck beneath ungovernable ceilings
of life’s desires, of freedoms to choose.
For us, choice is now, and forever,
and partly mine.
I whisper, utter abandon:
Clasp me close, then clasp me close —
my speech in embraces,
my lips on her soul.
Between the palpitations of two lives,
just now, now:
I long for a love like family.
I long for a peace like soliloquy.