A Special Contradiction


Underneath the chin
Relax. Smell it. Collapse.
Let that sink in.

That we’re endlessly playing moonlight
Watching sunset
Like an approaching crucifixion.
Don’t we glisten
Inside golden air?

Censoring tomorrow
By brandishing bed-sheets
In lieu of anymores-
Naked as our amphetamine kisses.

“It wasn’t my compliments.”
“It was our special contradiction.”
That lasts as long as what-if?

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