-JLB-

until you've seen the sluggish bends of the
Neva, the way its
reflected light keeps you from breathing, you can't
ever know the
quickening of my pulse
underneath the layers of self-
inflicted calmness, as I
try to pretend that you aren't
everything, try to pretend that my
desire isn't a graveyard, and that you're not the groundskeeper...