Author Information
Hungary
Your ass was made collateral
for bridges hardly bared above
the vagant seas consuming you
until you've willed your drowning.
Your aperture for ransom -
rely upon the straddled beams
that lift your ceilings from the dirt,
making shelter for your thieves.
I'd told you how my love had grown
from simple bronze fixation,
but truth is here and ultimate:
my loving insincere.
I'd been lost, was bathing in
your bare and cosmic sway;
lucid in my grasps and bites
and leery of no aftermath.
You signal me by glancing:
it says you knew, and still do,
and how I'm sure you think of it:
our old means and stances.
No matter that or this, you'll know
that I'd take my place behind you,
and as you'd bend to settle chores,
I'd be there to push.
