Dust Motes Circle Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

Dust motes circle the moon.
my heart with a solitary
depth I can't remove

Darling, don't let me forget.
There is an answer to everything.
If the questions aren't disguised
If your love isn't a ruse

Sure, as the sun sinks
It will rise, play its part
In your own heart

Like echoes in the chamber
Of a fired gunshot
Before the dust settles

I want you and everyone.
To know I want to tear off your clothes.

Listen to a harmonica.
Run breathless every night.
While the dust motes circle the moon
And shake your soul.
With melancholy gold.