By any other name, old under
new over these layered spasms could be
a lover’s ancestor in throes
of it. The lover did not
inherit that passion. It could be
learned. Or unlearned. No.
I cannot go back. I can
repurpose desire into
energy to stay awake overnight
for this city’s sake. But shadow
limbs will move behind a scrim—an ache
will likely bleed through.
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