Guinevere and Lancelot cool it

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She whispers his name
to the night
and her voice trickles down
to him.

Across the moon
a skin
crumbles patch by patch
as they watch.

Water, water.
Who knows when
these two will blend
again?

*

Rachel McAlpine

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Enter Sir Lancelot

big-pine

Although it’s true
that golden gleams
surround him

and true that every tree
blossoms with a crash
as he goes by

it is a silent seeking
in his eyes that draws her.
She unzips.

A bird coughs.
It rains from a sky of blue.
And a queen wants a love that is pure.

*

Rachel McAlpine