Gacela of Improv Love

No one embraced the perfume
of the sooty magnolia from your womb.
No one knew you had sacrificed
a hummingbird between your teeth.

Thousands of tiny Persian horses slept
on the plaza, under the moon of your face;
meanwhile, for four nights I was looped
to your waist, the enemy of snow.

Between plaster and jasmines,
your consideration was a pale, seminal bough.
In order to give in to you, I searched my chest
for ivory letters that could say Always


Always Always. Garden of my agony,
your body is always my fugitive;
my mouth is filled with your vein-blood,
and your lips already darken for my death.


-Tay

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