Afternoon sinking in langour Outside, the world turns in a dream Here, the softness of thighs Here, the heaviness of breath The swiftness of desire. Outside, lives rotting in the sun Here, the inexorable burrowing Of lands unknown and older Than the roots of memory, Clad in a perpetual twilight Here the hunger of arms, The reptillian smoothness of tongues. Outside, the vast emptiness of the night, And here, for us under the stars, What redemption?
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