I see myself in the poppy seeds and the playful trees -
In the dying grass,
In the crisp, singing breeze;
Under the breadth of sky,
Atop the breast of the sea;
In nature’s right hand -
Free.

Is humanity so arrogant to believe
you had the option to live as divines?
Keep reassuring yourselves, a
That a serpent caused your mortality!
How  fragile this whole universe must be
if my forked tongue can warp it!
Fine, let me stand as your antagonist,
let me account for your sins.
I’ll wear your accusations as a badge of pride,
While you live  in the illusion of your innocence.
Blame me for your blemishes and corruptions
instead of glaring at the true adversary in your mirror.
I didn’t stuff the fruit into those fools’ throats
or sentence you to suffering.
I was a mere emissary on duty, created as cunning,
Just as you were created to fall from ignorant grace.
So sit around your tables,
pray for deliverance from  the horrors
this ancient snake supposedly inflicts.
Hissing with a smug glee
I’ll curl around that ****** tree,
Because for all the forgiveness you claim,
No one seems to pray for me.

“Do I love her?”
Still this question haunts me,
Each second with her, thinking of her
Doesn’t go without its presence

“Do I love her?’
My lips go numb at the prospect,
My palms drenched with sweat
It feels as if she has a grip of my heart
And she’s squeezing each time
I attempt to wring myself free

“Do I love her?”
God ******, what a stupid notion
No, this is lust, erratic hormonal passion
I don’t find bliss in her detestable smile,
Nor her intoxicating laugh, and the
way her lips slightly quivers when
she pouts, it’s all vile. I just
want her body, not her heart
I repeat this lie to myself
To the point of redundancy,
Even my own lies have become
Pathetic to me

“Do I love Her?”
I’ve lost breathe, she’s swiped it from me
with her presence, how I can I be so weak,
so fragile, a person made of bone and flesh
shouldn’t have this control of me.
I refuse! Next time I see her
I’ll declare my hatred, purely out of spite.

“Do I love Her?”
I approached her so ready,
Prepared to cut her out of my life,
To free myself of the infection she is.
My moment of liberation was upon me,
Until she ruined everything by talking.
Being the thief she is, she stole my power to hate

“Do I love her?”
I’ve accepted my damnation to this question,.
now, when the thought returns
I nod

She’s just so tantalizing!
Let’s stop with articulate thoughts and “poetic grace”.
let me speak like a fool caught in the throes of infatuation,
she speaks sentences that can dismantle reality.
jitters overcome me, wanting to be back
under the summer circus sky with her.
Hell, she can make the sky appear as if it’s revitalized,
no man contains the power to describe her identity.
Even Shakespeare would throw his pen
in frustration of her enigma.
I’m a fool, yes a well read buffoon,
she inflames my being, but dims my tongue,
coherent words are nonexistent when she’s present.
The thought of her brings me a grin and grim thoughts
It reminds me of my impermanence
Knowing one day, she’ll realize her error
And take her perfection elsewhere,
Leaving my sky grey