Poem at Thirty-Six
past midnight
i am here reclining
on a magical bed
scribbling trifles & fooleries
after snatching a line or two
from the lyric lips of my Sapphic muse
every minute
a bewitching moment
of remembrance
i am here searching
measuring the sky’s symmetry
repainting Van Gogh’s Starry Night
with lilting words too naked
to be spoken
i am here
here i am feeling
someone
charting
mapping the constellations
& the contours of her body
i am here
here i am Pinabli
wet my dreams with your crimson kiss
O brown goddess
ere i turn into clay
i am here reclining
on a magical bed
scribbling trifles & fooleries
after snatching a line or two
from the lyric lips of my Sapphic muse
every minute
a bewitching moment
of remembrance
i am here searching
measuring the sky’s symmetry
repainting Van Gogh’s Starry Night
with lilting words too naked
to be spoken
i am here
here i am feeling
someone
charting
mapping the constellations
& the contours of her body
i am here
here i am Pinabli
wet my dreams with your crimson kiss
O brown goddess
ere i turn into clay
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