sunset swing

lofted low, beneath
a smiling horizon,
your lover awaits with tantalizing

a brand

what has passed
may yet come to pass
for some,
but never for you.

you will miss
the calm whisper of moonshadow
already slips
across this goosebumped skin.

sweeter than summer jasmine’s nightly call
lead me astray,
and errant fireflies
the road to abandon.

i should…..

i should return.
return to what I know, but
perhaps home,
is where the wild things grow.

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