The Innisfree Poetry Journal

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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