What desire wasn't
sufficed by you
curling there darkly
in that fabled room.
What desire there as
you stretched legs?
Enough to disgust
perchance and it
would seem I, too,
have had enough.
What of those who
have had enough?
Love and the lost
moon of our skies
remember softly those
nights I was folded
and spoken for though
I was an exploding star
and blew to bits.