Metapoetic 50

last night, dear _____, with nothing else to do,
i told you such poems through the airwaves,
and we said they would be nothing:
with my writing my untuned words and you listening
we cracked a joke and a bottle of wine.
i left you, lulled and thrilled
by your attention to beauty and your Venus, _____.
but my desire to cook did not phase me
nor did your wish to sleep make you weary.
but i lied still on my bed, completely exhausted,
wanting to see no light of the morning,
but only to keep you talking and questioning me to keep the stars up.
we, drained from the day, lie down without the other,
our eyes closing from kindred thought.
dear _____, i write this for you
so that you become my student and not my lover.
be mindful of your boldness, i pray
beware the prayers of your mother and father, shiny one,
unless Christ order penance upon you.
He is a cruel man: do not test him with your words.

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