A Carnal Grief

.
Who is this I made love to
.
That sits in the seat of
My soul
.
Yet suggests that I could
Trade him
Like some old trinket  –
Sold, for superficial things
.
Like borrowed time;
A bartered destiny, or
The false promise of commerce.
.
.
.
Were you not him? In
The pit of my stomach
Were you not him in
My womb?
.
Which ghost do I feel
Move within me
When I am alone in
My room?
.
He who makes the poet
Declare the muse
.
Then admonishes her for it?
.
.
.
You brought my barriers down
Faster than the fall
Of the Berlin Wall
.
How could you doubt me now?
Because I know not if you?
.
Yet you saw through the bars
Of the cage;
.
Professed that you
Loved the unlovable
Understand the recoverable
.
Wooed me in foreign tongues.
.
Are we yet so young, so headstrong,
That the most earnest words
Uttered in history
Fall on our own deaf ears?
.
Will we so soon fall victim
To our lurking fears?
.
I have learned so many lessons
Canary in the cage
I do not sing to hurt you
I sing my own rage
.
Where are your lessons?
What have you learned?
.
‘Subtle things’ from true love brings
It’s own confusion
.
Never have I heard words
Like I said and meant
Traded in a marketplace
Of deception.
.
I will walk along my path
Regardless of reception
.
My ovation is not
Mere repetition
When I opine ’tis not
Solicitation
.
Misplaced words can’t take
What was freely gave
.
Nothing can negate
The love that we made.
.
.
.
[end/arken2014]