What are you going as, this time?
With your unstolen precision,
nubile references, what was left undone.
Earmarked glances still standing
at river's beat
with its endless bounty,
of being, of one again, with the senses.
This configuration of memories best
yearning to taste and choose again,
a spirit's best chance.
What ever you do, though,
please do not undress at the wrong moment.
Making known your surreal presence,
as if it could ever be the same anymore.
Such things that trip over the many echoings
in a dimension's tremor,
as the hearts down there
toss and turn, and
lose themselves in their apparitions daily.
Can you hear me, as I hear you?
Are we so much really there in spirit?
Don't undress at the wrong moment, again.
Uncovering what's left
of the real you.
That borderline between their night and day
all sorts of reflexes from bottoms-end
profess again, will arise again.
As relationships of this nature
can ever really be over and done with, so readily.
Are you ready, or not, to meet them? And,
understand their many versions open to us, again;
designing the presence of their calling and pretending,
dealing with its early loss. Which we
can only understand
shock absorbing the pain,
until the feeling comes up for air hopefully.