The separation of church and fate
Of the ghost and the soul
Of the imprint and the footstep
Of fingerprints warming palms to pink

Butterfly kisses dampened by warm, smooth lines
Crushed and contoured together, arms and legs and hands
An air light sheet of damp anticipation in morning dew
A velvet portrait

Something beyond tenderness
Evoking the desperation of the joints
The cells for their attentions

All is not what it seems, innocent or clean
Staining the pristine window of affection
Dusty on the inside with raw reaction and lust
Blocking the purity of the sunshine

This confusion is the infusion of love and potion
Not equal to the tastes of darker desires
And begs the question: What's your poison?