Thursday, 11 August 2011


beetles under petrified glass,
we became thick with sugary blood
pouring over us in a sluggish crawl
so slow we did not notice until,
like insects in golden ice,
we were frozen apart,
our passion congealed,
amber oil without warm engine motions
to make it run thinner than water

copyright (c) 1999 and 2011 Daniel J. Bishop

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