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title
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

A. J. Frantz


 

Archipelago

It occurs to me sometimes– often on those nights when you are draped in lucid moonlight beside me– that I will never know anyone as intimately as I want to. Even in the hours
spent watching your ribs shudder with each breath, tracing each detour on your skin, and studying the valleys of your brittle hair. I draw you closer to me, snug between my arms
and these sweat-bathed sheets, but we can only be so close. I try to lose myself in the crooks of your limbs, but no matter how hard I try, I can always find myself again.

Men might be islands,
just strung together like beads–
archipelago.