The first of a series of poems, begun in 1975, that allowed the poet to speculate on relations that had never been or never would be.
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the comfort of your kiss. so innocent
that unicorns could watch without grief.
so tempting that, for a moment, a brief
aroma of brimstone flirted with my senses.
there is mystery here, mystery and madness
that begs me to hide from the call of questions
best left unanswered and unasked...veiled confessions
that carry within themselves passion and sadness.
an ending without a beginning...an embrace shared
by lovers in an alternate reality passes by.
and beyond.
the riddle smiles at us and we smile coyly at bonds
that cannot hold us in this sphere...
dreams and nightmares undared.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.