to Rosemary

On the same strip of land my body burns,
angering to your heat. The dustflash ground
beckons to an assault. On this quick street
the lovely terms of argument have their way.
We state a binding reason with our lips,
and eyes prove the soft incendiary causes
that lips and all fulfil. Our bodies brandish
harder measures, countering claims, no mercy
mercy, mercy, sought and given by lips
upon this shining land
where far from bodies’ vehemence, we lie still.

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