Clandestine is the desire
to resuscitate faded embers—
muted sparks snuffed prior to ignition.
Reckless is the desire
to marry the many simulacra of your allure:
the irrevocable cardiac palpitations
induced by disillusioned remembrance—
saccharine-tinged yet calamitous.
Futile is the desire
to devour the ephemeral;
to feast perennial
on the restructured
foundations of an inevitable
collapse.
