Selbstverbannung

Whispering caresses testify    under duress with somber    adoration. How many sonnets have I    forgotten    while tracing the    contours of your shape? Your slick fragrance disarms my    resolve; I yearn to    bottle such essence if only to keep a suggestion of    us in the face of certain    obliteration. For once the skitter and    the titter consume with    fangs of speculation, we    shall doubt what we’ve begun    in earnest    under the moon, the trust of synchronized    pulses seeking    harmony, and the explosive    thrill of shared    desire until nothing    remains.