Lust Sake

It was a constant struggle
to know her quick,
like the knowing
of a tree.
Detached, aloof,
erotically conspiring
in our naked-now exile,
gargoyles mounted,
fulfilling fantasies in
our piece of rooftop world,
no stop signs or melodrama,
belittling the la-di-da below.

She moved west.
Left her things
and no goodbye.
I missed her,
slept wrapped in her nylons
scraped pigeon shit
from our perch,
but never told her so.

Now she only
writes or calls
those friends so real,
yet far more flighty
and sex for sex
like unknown dollars,
she easily denied.

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