Store Up Your Love.

It seems, as though we've stuck by ourselves all day,
Never having known the crippled eyes,
or the gentle sores of the mind;
Shall we lose the mirth,
right where we left it last?
Stacked up, by the hungered doses,
rested and pleased with the wringing past,
Scalded in waiting with the clammed ghosts;
Are we the only ones?
Sleeping with the lights on?
As we loved our mild and our sumptuous,
surely inconspicuous and rancorous,
Sliding only with the breath of familiar taste;
Nerved and unnerved by our grilled fractions,
Kissing the grass just as we step off the moon;
It's shy and fly and snide, my love-
Always a myriad, our evolution.