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  • Royce Breslawski

Prelude to Intimacy

By Royce



5 A few steps from your apartment door, bathed

in lucid porch light amber, I had an epiphany,

a precision of vision not unlike the clarity of

the man on the gallows right as the spring door

pops open and the rope begins to choke.


4 Knowing that yes this is going to happen,

authenticity beginning in wisdom but ending

in a grunt, twisting until lust is asphyxiated 

and chests no longer bump into breaths.


3 Fumbling for your keys, like grandma looking

for her puzzle pieces, part of me just wants to

leave and avoid regiments of redundancy.


2 Now just meat abandoned by meat,

communicated by outbursts of apathy.


1 Clothing sheared, only quarks remain.


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