Languor

Stench of honeysuckle
clings to my window
leaves flicker in rumble of thunder:
across the footpath a dead rabbit,
dogs bay a warning.

Your eyes grey like wolves
I lay in languor long past desire
thunder rumbles in my blood
lightning strikes, ground sizzles
there is semblance of life.

Love hovers somewhere
I can feel its pull, am terrified
by the taste, too tired to
contemplate superlatives
wait for the rain to provide its answer.

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