your
body’s
rise and return are curled into my
throat opulent inquests enter my thoughts the painter
has imperiously conjured our oblique gaze ♦ to direct what nests in those oils ♦ your obsidian
reflectivity ♦ your luster ♦ your youth ♦ your gaze ♦ your allure ♦ to direct what men’s base oblivion
what heavily uttered oaths beg opportunity to redeem themselves ♦ or your own redemption ♦ but you have an amethyst fortitude
your opaque eyes never see past your walls ♦ you remain obscure in your form ♦ removed from a world that is onerous ♦ and desires you too strongly
Andy Oram
September 5, 2023