Posted in Literature, Nature, Poetry, Relationships, Science, Travel, tagged affection, black, block, bones, cinder, city, comet, contain, drop, dying, ebony, ember, fahrenheit, flame, frizzle, froze, gargoyle, hard, hit, hole, ice, ignite, lights, love, lurk, matchstick, melancholy, morose, night, numb, parch, passion, poem, poetry, psyche, semblance, smoke, smoldering, sober, splinter, star, steel, sub-zero, tame, tower, traversing, universe, whiteness, zoom on May 10, 2009|
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I am smoldering in the night.
But you’ll see no passion, only sober
semblance to a gargoyle, seating.
And towering over the city lights.
Ah, the fahrenheit must have drop
below sub-zero. My steely psyche
a block of ice emitting smoke,
numb in whiteness. I froze.
Ignite me a matchstick. Tell me
what you see when melancholy
lurks slowly in my bones. Splintered
cinders, then into ebony parchness.
Ah, am I a comet zooming, as it hits
your universe then dissipate like a frizzle?
Imagine me as a flame of a dying star-
morose. Traversing your love’s black hole.
You didn’t know how hard to contain
my tamed affection. You just didn’t know.
I am smoldering in the night, but
you’ll see no passion. I am sober.
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