In the joyous light of our encounter

lay the darkness of our parting,

in our burning desire for each other

lay the cold detachment of later days.

The death of feeling and recognition

hid in the frenzy of spiralling climaxes

while the coldness of our goodbye

waited on our exhausted, satiated flesh,

lying on entangled embroidered sheets,

in a semi-lit room reeking of roses and sex.