The rain is unspooling a twine of desire
on longing succulent, clandestine of desire.
Love’s petulance can plant and uproot by turns,
in its balm and corrosion, a combine of desire.
The skin’s tablet seeks a deft stylus of lips
to carve hieroglyphs in a divine of desire.
The river of love flows from mountain to sea,
at each bank a waiting concubine of desire.
Every heart is knocked for the beloved’s address
one city becomes another, a serpentine of desire.
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