My pursuit for love, and the city,
Has been a long, dark, bony thing.
Nights full of type-written poems,
The thorn-encased beauty in a volume
Never meant to be devoured by the critics.
I played my game of idolatry
With the smoke and fog
Of a big city where headlights dimmed the stars.
I watched with new eyes the buildings
Of a town transpose into an ant army
Of funeral processions and high school graduations,
Cityscape spinning her streets and tress into
A hieroglyphic to translate my tragedies.
Like memory submitted to tapestry,
The devil sat on my right shoulder
In three nights worth of twilight
Before the beautiful hands
Of a married artist-man touched me with
Such sensitivity, the humility of my loneliness
A broken tooth to bite me viciously
Before breaking into bone dust.
I turned my pale face into an alleyway,
In denial of the heart-threads he’d sewn into me.
Beneath the path of an October sky too shy
To share the secrets of its witches,
I fell into the mercy of a stranger who held my hands
And stroked the tears from my cheeks
The way the moonbeams stroked the shadowed side streets.