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Isle of Capri
Despite our surroundings
~~~shining & glittery~~~
lately, we’ve been rebounding,
then declining, jittery
‘cause troubles seem 2double,
get bolder
---very heavy--
as we get older
&they set on our shoulder,
breaking us, taking us,
or so we think
2the brink.
So we’ll pay fare towards a trip,
not by air, but aboard a ship,
passage for2, n2
a classic venue
with a sun drenched coastline
where we’ll be 1inch~~close in time
to the atypical, mythical paradise paradigm
~~literally Italy~~
When the winds prevail, we’ll set sea sail
enroute 2 the Isle of Capri
once again
deep n2 our devotional marriage
leaving behind miles of debris
& deep emotional baggage.
It’ll be a retreat cruise with healing hues
2treat bruise feeling blues
~~the type people who love serve blending
fatigue with intrigue
2come a long way
~~~but who sometime rub nerve endings
the wrong way.
So it’s no wonder we view this luxury liner
as a glass bottom boat
Thus, You’ll see a kinder me
& know that we haven’t seen our last autumn’s hope.
We’ll see that the past integrity of our love’s legacy
remains intact, 4if the flame & wax
had melted we would have felt it!
If anything, the wick & wax are thicker.
The kiss-stained flame
licks its lips with a Black flicker.
Do You remember that in solitary homage
2my voluntary bondage
2Your sable anatomy
i wrote a poem entitled “Naval Academy?”
basically saying i have GOD 2thank that I got the nod 2rank
as Your 1st Lieutenant.
You sighed & replied that “You’re my burst of incentive”
& You meant it.
Well, i’ll fend 4us, intend 4us
2b imagers in miniature
‘cause our peak twin poetic
has a unique slow, kinetic flow
that moseys its thrills
thru rosy fields.
4the texts & ranges of our exchanges
have never been robotic or prosodic.
We’ve never known diffidence.
& tho we may awed being abroad
it’ll make no difference.
If anything we’ll over please overseas.
The beach bedding setting
will be the best poetic aesthetic:
off the Bay of Naples
~tongues in cheek~
we’ll softly play with navels
~plunge in deep~
Each taste is as fulfilling as drinking goat’s milk;
the beach space is as shielding as linking with cloaked silk.
& when the laying field, the playing field
is a beach comb, each groan
is on a bed mount sensual
&no thread count is essential.
We could share as thrones air blown mattresses
as long as Your moan zones are not an actress’s.
& i continues stir up the syrup venue
~~~slow passage molasses~~
ensconced in the villa
of Your bronzed vanilla
where i churn, go below
navel pores
b4 we return 2flow in the glow
of Naples shores.
We’ll mentally fly, produce what’s labeled ardor
as we gently lie, seduced, at that fabled harbor.
We’ll take the awe of exposed passion & refine it
--in raw, unrobed fashion, such that i’m reminded
no matter how hard i’ve tried 2hide my heart
i’m still only flesh, bones & blood
& not enmeshed in stone & mud
& You know how 2set off my soft & wild style~~free
how2get me off~~on or off the Isle of Capri,
bring out my smile of glee.
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