everything is on the one
and bodies combobulate
into a lay-down-disco…

i see: your wine-cellar
needs repair, it’s languished
for far too long; but

im sommelier for the sun
and know a throng when
i see one; surrender

to this throbbing. we’ve
seen this all before, adored it,
done ignored it, but seldom

been this. but listen:
why praise the afterglow
of glitter if we never choose

to glisten? afterall, we both
know how well our blues align.
so if we fail to break into

the beauty between us, then
all this big bang is for naught;
a wasteful use of constellations,

but quenching taught us better,
the reprieval in our bodies’ folding.
and if love says “retrieve”, we must.