Mirror, Mirror, Where is Delphi

i preferred it when you had your hair in a bun,
walking down Tweedy with ripped jeans and taylor gang chucks,
with your hair blazed bloodier and brighter than desolate Mars,
when you were just another girl i grew in war with,

i never dreamed, though i saw that one day you would leave,
and desert the dirt covered laces and kiss me goodbye,
tethered up in knots as you threw us in the sky,

i look down at you tangled on the line,
a saddened women posing in her in undergarments before the digital eye,
you are the baddest *****,
i can see it on my screen as i scroll past in thirst,
you are the baddest *****,
i acknowledge this to be true,

infantry ****** open fire, shooting explosive emojis that detonate your feed,
i know you wear bullet proof armored sweaters
but i also see the bruises on that solitary face,
leeches feeding lust into your neck,
you step into battle with black eyes on your chest,
swinging your “i don’t give a ****” sword, beheading lascivious foes,

i preferred when we sat on the terrace during the decline of the sun,
softly voicing how we’d get out of this cage,
walking north of south gate with worn out tokens,

i left you unguarded
pardon me, lustful,crimson Helen of Troy

They stand still, dangling their heads in mid air, as
if bent over by curiosity, catching the eyes of
bystanders as they plant their roots and intertwine
their bodies under a dim lit sun

Their arms lightly touch along the spines of one
another, grabbing second glances as they kiss gently
from tip to tips—shifting earth's gravitational grip—
slipping sensual aromas into the timid crowds,
stealing attention

They caress with their fingers anyone who draws
nearer and nearer, collecting corroded
notions—creating, blending, coalescing and
infusing carnal spirits—for those who fail to ignore
what lurks before them; they splitting minutes
of the mind divided

and

             across

from
  
            them

is

           a

                          shy melancholy rose. softhearted,
                          cordial, dancing alone.

i am a walking contradiction,
venturing into the voids of my keyboard,
causing deadly,
venomous,
friction.



offbeat.poet