Spine to the earth, surrounded by grass, leaves, all that ever was and ever will be,
Lost in misguided notions, ’til love finally found me.
I think back to lovers who’ve called me their ecstasy –
She let me course through her veins like torrential rains,
Until I flooded her whole with half-truths and ire.
Born in the fire, I kept taking what I wanted.
Short of light-hearted, there wasn’t much to deposit.
I wept not, when he and I finally departed.
Darker parts of my history could desimate the next man’s sanity,
Though I transcend past pain and vanity, ribs aching with reality –
Let us shed our cloaks, we joke but true lives hide behind each line,
You can pick a place, that’s fine, but now is always the right time.
(The Beach at Honfleur – Monet; photographed at LACMA)