‘The sun has gone missing—the moon, too, vanished in unreflected light.’

Obsession

What am I

but atonement for your ego?

Lavender on your wounds;

time I don’t get back;

angel cake I wrote the recipe for

but am too sick to eat, myself.

Why is it that love sometimes

touches us too hard,

in shades of pine and sage,

crimson speckled evening sky,

and toxic rage is dispelled

like a watery magic

overflowing from my mouth?

I might drown us in waves

unable to be held inside my chest.

Whose are the hands which

touch my scars in ecstasy,

yet touch my heart in hesitancy?

The truth is diamonds hold heavy weight;

forever is a concept which exists,

though as a human being

all I’ve ever known

are endings.

When ego overshadows

the rising sun,

the setting moon crescent upon

silken sky becomes myth,

unable to lay her light upon the dial.

Where does love hide,

and why does she

prefer to play with knives?

How has she tricked me?

With gold and marble;

material possessions;

disbelief in her own magic;

not so humbled obsession.

The evolution of an ending

alluding to infinite time.

The sun has gone missing—

the moon, too,

vanished in unreflected light.

Leave me with nothing,

so the truth is not hard to find;

fabricated feelings

are the only thing in this life

I may ever truly

call mine.