that sizzling
god i wish it could be
more than my poor frenetic senses
guarding the gates
against burned recompense.
it should be me
sliding truth in, from
you coarsen
i hasten by, whistling.
our love as visceral
tenderly mourn
as touch yawns space
this electrode gap
crackles *more*.
scour my thoughts --
sorely disagree.
- Simon Huggins, 2nd February 2006