When I was young
Bloody hot-blooded
I fancied there could be
An eternal kiss
In an endless embrace
Then they called me
An indefatigable romantic
Later when my beard greyed
I knew eternal anything can’t be
Everything that had begun
Had to end in vain
In vagrant time on endless run
Then they called me
A sophic akin to Socrates
Ah me, they didn’t know
I remained still a romantic
For then I was in love
Not with fleshy lips alone
But with roaches even
I am a romantic
Endless that I am
Holding everything
Kiss, roach, touch and lips
Close to my chest
In an eternal clasp
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