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This match won’t last long enough to catch the flickering swell and diving crash of your eyelash. As we swoon in this room, our plume of phosphor and sweet perfume. You are the fleetingness of grace gone too soon. We should have known. This apple that we’ve sown. We should have kept those damn clothes on. No spark to impart all of our fumbling in the dark. Down the hall the radio plays with a sadness so stark. Sinking still from a swill. Just let the Maenads get their fill. Man’s folly, I’ve been told, is a bitter pill. We should have known. This apple that we’ve sown. We should have kept those damn clothes on. Lock the door. This hue. The incandescent vestige that’s you. We both know there’s no black or white in this sepia night. Oh no. I’ve got to go before this heart and head explode. Before the light exposes our tongues and your rose lips; a polaroid of lovers’ poses. Oh no. I can’t go. Should we stop? Girl, please say “no.” ‘Cause you’ve got those eyes like shutters capturing the rapturing as I mutter. The door. This hue. The incandescent vestige that’s you. We both know to keep those damn clothes on. We should have known. This apple that we’ve sown. We should have kept those damn clothes on. Lock the door. This hue. The incandescent vestige that’s you. We both know there’s no black or white in this sepia night.

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from Dear Dionysus, Sweet Aphrodite, released September 10, 2013

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