Shades of Reflection

For every sun in my dreams alight
the sun is a gold bounty of might
moon dost swoon at such a sight,
but hides her love in dark night.
Will love triumph in deep shadow?
The shade penumbra colors in
resonates in the darkest din.
Love's twilight may be modest
to the sun's effervescent light,
but it echoes on to great unknowns,
to whisper to stars so bright,
the moon's undying twirl around
this stars magnificent white.

I am only guilty...

of carving constellations on my back.
of measuring words I lack.
of laying down no law.
of having every single flaw.
of living life as I see fit,
and never once getting on with it.
of loving once too many,
and sharing what I had, if any.
of calling out names in the dark night,
and retaining faith in my mind's sight.
of cutting corners on everything.
of memorizing nothing.
of touching a man's cheek.
of men not being weak.
of shortsightedness.
of lightheadedness.

Not One Man

Fuck you!
FUCK YOU!
This is most!
I can't boast!
You fucking loser,
shameless abuser!
How can you not lie?
Feeling shameless guilt?
I didn't do it!
You know you did it!
Thank you,
for not giving once,
or ever again.
For taking as you please
and taking with ease.
Can not one man
prove to me
that I need
needlessly.

Symbol

We all have a face
a face lighted by the moonlight
as by glowing fire.
This face is what we become,
the world marks as it wishes.
We become what marks it.
Love, lies, lifted light
stray on the braces
of our far gone faces.
We can cut, suture, or bind it.
Nothing can change it.
Only we become it
in a fit of transformation.
the higher planes will not relent,
in keeping this secret
bound from those of us in dissent.
We change these planes
to become more
by marking out the faces entirely.
Becoming lighter in entirety.
Don your masks
mask it out.
Hate your fate
as so to change it.
Do it. Now.

The Couch in The Black Room

This is absolute,
withering, estrangement.
My body decaying
on its chassis.
I've left myself,
become abandoned,
and lulled myself into
listless abduction.
Your drunk inside voice is dead.
No synapses firing
in my sullen head.
You'll duly deal us
the card of shame.
You, for sliding inside me.
Me, the gray area of blame.
I could say rape,
But it would give you too much credit,
wouldn't it?
We're both adults,
audited for our extended curiosities,
and austere self-loathing.
You fear what
you claim to know.
Isn't that what fear is?
Refusing to see
your evident woe?
I am lopsided on
what is right,
dictated by people
whom are hardened with fright.
You saw to it that the girl
who felt disadvantaged by
Love's warm hands,
would,
with the help of your disgusting fingers,
be taken advantage of,
all over again.
This time with marks burned on her conscience,
burned in her skull,
burning down her sense
of sexual purpose.
I must have been wet to touch,
for your appetite was
whet too much,
as to let jealousy for me
and distaste of disillusionment
override your drunken
conscience to let me
black out alone,
without you inside me.
Was I sexy?
Did my dead fish move
do something for you?
Did my chest heave too?
Did my thighs clasp your side?
Did you delight in tearing me open wide?
The only time you
could ever be with my body,
was when my vulnerabilities
were bare,
and the girl who would say no,
wasn't even there.

Open All Night

Something to viddy,
yes, hearth of my legs is alight,
and open all night.
The pitista who had the heart
when she was young,
gave it too suddenly
and now it's gone.
When I am to become older,
and saltier,
and the jeezny of youth
has been sweat out of my body,
Oh brothers!
There stands my tower!
Can you, like, see it?
Oh Beauteous vessel of a Soomka.
My goloss with no soul.
It had been the strack
of razrez to the heart,
done in by the chellovecks
viddied would be all
fathers to my fatherlessness, of sorts.
I had been left to
the device someone else,
all shame of course
my, like, body being loveted an all
in such a vicious game of pol.
Too much shame of course,
would have done me in.
It's just time to be
sammy to the rasoodock.
And close up the business
of heart-related matters.

For reference, here is a Nadsat dictionary.

I will wait for February.

I do digress
Under duress
That the shift of my dress
Lifted under stress.
But the lucid loving
Kickstarted my coming
With beauty so stunning
It kept me from running.
So how do I explain,
The meaning of the game
When both parties are to blame
And their efforts all in vain?
It's fear all across
For the feeling of loss
Blinded by the gauze
Of the retaliatory riposte.
The subtleties of long ago
And memories the mind does stow
Will be a fear I let grow
Into a pain i'll never know.