Our heady days
of sex surprise
set us ablaze
between our thighs
and masked the fear
that nothing more
made us adhere
at thirty-four.
The sweaty heat
of burning lust
made Hope's conceit
incongruous.
Your desperate grasp,
my frenzied kiss,
our unveiled gasp,
left us remiss.
The Future gave
this to impart:
"Though you've been brave,
you’re best apart."
Razed callously,
we steeply fell.
Now, wondrously,
I wish you well.
Yes, on Love’s Day,
I wish you well,
though we’re away
yet parallel.
With glee, I keep
what I have lost:
Memory’s deep
and aching cost.
Your poem was vivid and memorable, too.
Your poem was superb, as well.
I thought your poem was amazing.
My friend, thanks to you.
Your poem was great, by the way.
I appreciate that a lot.
Thanks so much.
Good luck to you, also.
Obviously, I liked yours, too.
Thanks and best of luck to you, too, S. Michelle.
I liked your cheeky little poem, too.
Thanks.
I liked your poem, too.
Best of luck to you, too.
Best wishes to you, as well.
Much appreciated.
Thanks.
It's always appreciated.
Much appreciated.