The Last Time I Fucked You

I’m abrading the Florida night with my sand and weather,
Scraping away the soot between stars,
To reveal a clamped down laboratory dawn that’s heavier and sweatier,
Than that two week ago coupling in Hunmanby,
Where we dissolved each other’s mistrust into a better

Moment; and as it turned out that was all it was, an exotic particle fleeting.
Then back almost immediately to that solar flare,
Like this Orange County Sun I cannot look at; both seemingly intent on greeting
Me by scorching a Bunsen hole in my face with
Sunlight and words. It’s as if a whole new science of unethical distancing

Is content to research us, proving hypotheses of switchback toying confusion.
I’ve sat and watched our enraged physics fail to explain,
Why we’re given one brief lovemaking as scant reward against the scalding reaction
Of tearing down this love atom by atom whilst still
Harnessing forces to contain our ongoing experiment in human fusion.


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