Brushed, plushed, and positioned as their dark-haired consort There may be more than one, but I have given up to them My radio calls from innermost heart to infinity and behind God There perched is the humanised coil of grace and powerful sway Over me in any context or sentiment that this realm may ask, posit, or inflict We are still newness to each other, but perhaps fate is the autumn Walls blushing and tumbling around inside both of us During strolls through our inward gardens and along arched fingers Swapping met needs, quarries, and reservoirs; our calendars and therapies Full of each other's affirmed boundaries and foibles and otherworldly Pleasures meant to cope with the cruelties of forever not being enough Rapture, vertigo, and holding onto each torch song of a moment together From the bottoms of hunger to the balconies of touches each more magickal Than the last time we saw our thoughts manifest behind our curtains Aflame in eager headlong glances Pairing from Sherlock to Oort; Carrying on together in elementary and starry manners: Let the jealousy carry onlookers into shouting their unnecessary approvals Forwarded to the higher power who hath blessed us with each other Neither woman nor man But far more intimately bonded ![[PXL_20260924_161304813.NIGHT.jpg|banner]]