I’m dawdling
Across this page
As if we had never
Written
Or declared
Such words indecent
Before these eyes
Can shame

Our phrases
Joined at hips
Like poems
Said in tandem
Where worship
Places commas
Between what lives
Get read

Through naked truths
Proclaimed
From the mouth
Of talking devils
Whose idle minds
Unquestioned
Go dreaming lies
Out loud

Believing love
Was made
For the sake
Of cunning linguists
With silver tongues
Demanding
Their lust
Stay florid prose

And pain
That open book
While clauses hang
Indifferent
Between each sentence
Waiting
For reasons
Well explained

How flesh
Is much like verse
And print
My only answer
If sex
Still begs the question
Do lazy hearts
Hurt most?

– J. Pigno