once as a young boy

[severeallergy]

we used to be such beautiful, slow partners,
this woman in my mind's eye;
i've hoped for everyone i've ever met,
but what of disappointment is compromise?

sometimes this dream makes me ache,
a divine sickness, terrorized
if i were to finally find you

i gave up all my replacements for you, lover

my injections of left-handed love,

and now: simple, unending sickness, longing for you ...