The Innisfree Poetry Journal www.innisfreepoetry.org by Joseph J. Capista
The Lovers
After Magritte’s Les Amants, 1928 Our end starts here:
tonight we wish
upon the darkest
star, entwine
as beasts, lament our
breath’s capacity
to take and give
small secrets
we offer this world
only when its
back is turned.
Be crush, love.
Be lush. Undoing,
undone. Be sunset.
I’ll be the blackest
sails ever raised
against you, perfumed
by empires fallen.
And when I die, if I
die wise, you will
know I have lived
as a fool.
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