Poem found in box #1

lightning to strike us both
naked and a little saggier
our bodies flash
in brief grins of desperate light/
like snapshots of streakers
caught in defiance of sanity and custom/
while we suck and stroke
liver-spotted flesh/
that beholds welcome
drops of moisture
from a purple sky
that crackles with burnt showers
of ozone that fill our nostrils/
as your tongue washes
my cock under
the dark swaying trees/
where we hear magical sounds
which call us to
strange excitements/
while others hide/fearful
they would be seduced
by the spasm and roar/
just as Hemingway was/
as his jaws opened wide
and the cold metal barrel
must have felt so bloody
feverish like our sweaty skin
the last time/we danced
on a green slick carpet
no matter about skinned knees or elbows/
you reached behind
and I thrust in-
time to catch breathless phrases/
our lungs gasping
with voices that beg and repeat/
come/
come/
do not let me die//


Poem written in Mass after learning of a mass connected to the kidneys.