The Foregone Conclusion: Poetry

We were 
once dancers
on a stage 
of our own

Our audience
was Eden
and we knew
of each other
all there was
to know

Whatever made us
leave sanctuary
for lives of
false impressions?
Was it a sin
that I wanted him
to open every layers
and be able to trust
that I would not
be betrayed?

Was I damned
because the sigh
that escaped me
at his touch
was one of pure delight?
My eyes are dry
brought on by 
a drought
of affection

And I am weary
of learning the 
that time erases
everything I touch
The dynamic shifts,
the balance wanes

Nobody likes
being a foregone

Now we've come
to the part where
we bow and say

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