I hear you in the silence of another lunar cycle
       your predatory stare scares me to death
  the intimacy we share writes like
the history of a "Divine One"
    the Michelangelo of modern times
you promised me healing as you
           studied me intently
  eyes filled
a storm drain overflowing with rain
  your gaze no longer reflected
        in the glass
   you are now stood by

  at just thirteen you held my soul
  on rose pillows of chiffon fabric
you were more than just the oxygen I breathed
    you were the beauty I saw in
    every dark haunting thought
my mother told me that my
    primal wishes were the most childish
  fantasies she had ever heard
a pure example of human interaction
                 I yet again
       misunderstood.

© Sia Jane