I feel my eyes burning black,
Looking into mellow eyes,
Sweeter than 'mallows tonight.
On the podium of soccer goals
on a steamy locust day,
she sounded the horn to retreat
to where slow dreams roll
down to the thundering present,
where wants become musts,
where faith is in the water,
which births smiles luminescent;
This is the Temple of Tenderness,
the monument I hold where angels snuggle,
and everyone holds their neighbor's breath,
waiting for the Second Coming of Sweetness.
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