One-night stands that sit

I am old
And my skin folds
Under the lamplight let us us lie, legs entangled
As they once did in the fading rubble of Dachau
Before that much talked about dawn. Enemy to-
Donne. John. And I fill the gaping hole of tonight
With your name. And promise to be yours for
A thousand and one nights.

I am old
And my skin unfolds.

As our folding skin unites in waves of the virgin Atlantic
waves of flesh. Unending. Crashing on the shores of dawn
I shall be the keeper of secrets. Of your love that died under
the Andalucían sun. And the snake that bit you when you were
a naked boy playing by the twisting meandering Amazon
Slipping through your fingers like sand. Like my childhood.

I am old.
My teeth no longer hold.

As I tell you of prophesies I told no one. Our Past
Spilled in the anonymousness of this nocturnal
Pairing. Bird-like. Momentary. Ephemeral. Brief.
Nous sommes les fleurs de la nuit. Du mal.
I pretend to care one last night. Deceive one last
Time. Space. Light. Sound. Already, I am gone.

I grow old.
Covered by mold.