Tipping Point

“Oh, we’re so disarming, darling.”
A whisper in the middle of the crowded bar
Lost in the flush and blush rush
Branding burn of fantasy, of desire
A thought pounding louder than the music
Pulsating in the crush of bodies

It’s not about affirming life
Not about comfort
It’s connection on a primal level
Proving with hips and moans
We aren’t alone

“Break away,” she breathes
A tickle in the cochleae
Gusting through your denial
To that image you cling to of yourself
Awkward and unsure
Aeons ago
It’s time to let go

Somnolent stumblings in a dusky alley
Shadows contorting in the speeding headlights
You are lost in the feel of the dark and cold
Of her recursive beauty
Of a moment rattling along the cobblestones
Echoing through your timeline
As you fall

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