You poor darling,
You simply don't see yourself, do you?
Acrid- tang cigarette
(irresistible; your doing)
will leach from my hair, to swirl down the drain.

The scent of me, never we could place a finger on
that curled in your nostrils and tilted your head
quickened your heartbeat and stirred your longing
perhaps I  replace it now, blindfolded alchemy
as I wash night away for the bright day ahead.

......but oh, in that morning, turning my head to my own shoulder
in sleep-half awareness of lying alone
the smell of you impermeated
in my naked skin?
Smiling as honey-deep memories surfaced
I was saddened by normal, sweet touch of warm water-
I'd wanted to inhale you all of the day.

You poor darling
Heart fragile, unwittingly bidden laid bare
this lepitopterology
your pain pulled forth, in my chest, in my empathy
-I now know the difference between mine and yours.

You don't see yourself, do you?
Oh, how I know your suffering
as it was mine, and mine again, too many days and nights to count
all the good, great, and magical I had and created
came forth from the luminous creature I was
but blinded by taunts, and wicked occlusion
I saw my self lacking; sorely so, truly broken
and a painful un-fit, in the world I was in.

But darling, my vision of heart has expanded
of spirit, and eyes that saw lack and disgust
Love has saved me! Inklings a half-decade prior
have furled forth from seedling to sapling to tree
and the grand love of Self that is true nature, birthright
is flowering forth for its beauty to see
Blooms of confidence, surety, clear blessed vision
of gifts that are mine, honour-bound to set free.

I recall that pure sadness and loss on your aura
as the light kissed you, curled in repose on the chair
that had held us in passion. Self- same cigarette
that you scrambled for madly to calm tides of longing
(frustrated, so not to abet floods of tears)
seems to both speed and slow your heartbeat and loathing
that gap in your eyes, uniqueness unfair.

And I know many years you may have of this, sharply
Repudiation, inadequacy, loneliness, grief
Inflicted to pin down the Ulysses you are
but I tell you, and one day I know you will know this
Glorious you are and resplendent you'll be.

I'm still on my way but my light is emerging
(you being one instrument to bring this from me)
Think perhaps of the Monarch, that you wondered if whether
We were blessed to set eyes on, on our fair shores
It knows not its beauty, and in liquid torment
it writhed for what felt like intolerable years
in primordial soup, a knife-edge to oblivion
but emerged as magnificent, free from its fears.

So my darling, I know you don't see yourself clearly
But I do, and oh what a true gem you are
There is so much inside you and through your perspectives
The world is enlightened, and so you must learn
That your blessings to all of us lie in the All
of the mad, rapturous, deep, bright, tulmutuous heart
of the Artist-
the treasure the world needs to turn!-
And although you may fall into self-flagellation
and feel our kind too far and few between,
remember my heart, dear; allow me to light you
and once again let your magnificence burn.