How many miles
must we march
blooms the recurrence
then subsides my 
feeling closer you
smug to smile
the eternal questions
bare, conscript shaping
oligarchs of taste
;
weep, homonym, debasing
tendrils smutty with
likenesses of you
;
everyone like you
speaks of you
truly lust in
the gorge ablaze
my listless ache
of you, you,
you
;
even this poem
is you, speaks
D.H., Lawrence
of Arcadia, Golgotha
wanting shapely you
with bleached highlights
broken noses, entire
litanies of meticulously
flippant hair
;
each their insecurity
impish with sly
wisdom begrudging my
affection.