David Turnbull

The Lovin' Fest

We’re done now with love. Clouds form above,
where once sky blue, angels pranced for you,
and I teased your sweet bowl, while you cried me whole.
I played the monkey, as in you dawned a jockey.

See our love, fast vanished, gasps a heart admonished,
What’s the pain down here I feel? Vain loss, passing shame, an old weal.
Oblivion sought is only delay sickly bought,
A soft black no thought, lusting must be in hand re-caught.

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