I come to you
In a state of recaptured innocence
The passion of the youthful immortal
All fumbles, and dancing fingers
Poems bubbling violent in each kiss
The sunny afternoon earthquake
The room implodes around us

We disregard the peaceful
Insolent and cruel about the future
We leave it waiting
We, with thrilling naivety
Think
It may get impatient
And leave
And leave
Us be.