I will still look for you.
In every details,
in every ways of understanding a conjecture.
I will look at you and the desire will stop falling from grave bliss.
You stay there in primate memory,
in every touch over reactions.
The fire sways at night in a hollow atmosphere,
the darkest swamp,
the bloated escape.
Some wrinkled hands through the open window,
a call of a long painted afternoon,
trying to catch the sunset in utter ignorance.
The blind river crosses,
the courtship finds the dope,
when i look at those eyes i know i will have to keep looking,
keep searching
and keep finding
and keep losing again.

……………………………………………………………………….

Photograph: Randy Chooper

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