Lovers empty eyes dost not
Make love some sweet vail place to
Lay one's treasure down.
To bare existence of love, life,
Then death with not a feeling but of
Store.
Lovers touch like that of sulk. I still
Remember that moment of that first
Touch still.
How the flesh overwhelms the eyes and
After all treasures had been lain
Would the feeling of stone remain
Would that silky touch be still in
Hand or would it have turned
To dust.
Sept 30/99
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