These years were sunsetting
horsehoofing since the stone age
died in cascades of nothingness
and flurries of sorrows
that were cherry blossoms
across our missionary selves
these years we went places against
the lonely, cold evenings
locking horns and
making out on the rocks
as a desperate fancy
as an ulterior sculpture of lovemaking
these years we were lost
and hidden
searching ourselves in our sweat,
scents and tears between our bloody long
and slender legs and explosions
these years we explored the passions
of storms on the high seas
necking your creases,
your dense, sweet women like flowers
and chocolates against darkening skies
these years we marveled at the shrieks
and all the yelling shipwrecks.