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Madgascar Leave

Do You Remember Those Secret Days?

We boys casually pal’d around before we got down to making love

In the Beautiful waste of days in the empty nothing that had become our lives.

We then burst from our confining clothes to be Naked,

playing cowboys on the pallet,

Searching our shells for something other than

These lonely little moments.

We eked out solace like we were

Digging in poisoned ground


Peace was not other than fitful sleep,

broken by portent nightmares of us

Stumbling toward what wants us to fade from each other.

I wake again,

In this little room with a window over an alley,

No more cigarettes and lover is gone…

I roll over, to return to sleep again

in hopes that I might find

those days with you somewhere in the

ether of my ecstatic dreams...

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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