Some new poetry has been coming to me recently:
Snuff out the effervescing candle,
Not for our squalid sake and secrecy,
But for the darkness to hide a stolen
Kiss, a secret coax of mankind.
Beware, though, when you take away
That obvious mystery of our hearts;
It must be remembered that I thrive
On able lights, wherever they are gleaming;
My functionality is broken
When the sides of my conscience snap,
So used to analytical energies,
And overexposed to darkness unrefined.
I am asking of a deed too difficult:
Do not click off the light-box,
Sunlight’s beams still should rise,
Taken and stolen now and once further.
Such pressed illumination
Begins to scar my retina;
And a headache draws in every
Single fallen sight.
My frustration is my blood raw,
Lapping at the second electric union
That evolves from our singular
Relationship of ice and fire,
Glass to cut through the waxen
Shades of my fated face. Again:
All happiness is bred to burn,
When two knowing beams collide, touch
In the darkness where I had once dwelled,
The selfish certainty I knew
Was not love. Now the air
Is being lit with more potential;
And is lifted up – but it will fall
If you dare take away your source.
Yet, eventually, we know
Our cause will double back into
Its boiling wax, now cold enough;
We will burn ourselves out, eventually.