4 of 30.
First consumption:
your eyes incinerated me.
Hard-pressed for words,
I fled, fugitive.
The second consumption:
your voice serenaded me
idiosyncratic
staccato
sometimes
we are the dissonance
in the inevitable discord,
the out of sync,
off-beat time shifts
in lunar metronomes
but we always return
to the fiery song
that is ours to
transpose.
