Locked in my sins, poured out my glow —
For scroungers of my craving heart
Defaced my soul, tore it apart
Dislodging scraps of hooking jones,
Effetely clinging to my bones.
But when the dusk glanced down at me
I relished his curiosity,
My plumage quavered bright and fair,
Auroral damsel in despair.
Hence pristine I met him, such pawn,
Seraph and framer of my dawn.
And yet my quaking was not fear,
More of a timid cloying tear —
A rush of joy, hovering bliss,
No soaring had compared to this —
The sky's embrace, its blasting kiss
Enticing lush, obscene to miss.
Jail was a peccant parlous spoor,
And he breezed in to breach its door
Thus healing my bruises and stings,
Then goading me to spread my wings
Beyond my dreamlands, and above,
What is this feeling? — Must be love.
Addah Monoceros.
No comments:
Post a Comment