The golden threads woven into a dark night ____ the ivory flesh open to a tempest.
Can there be passion without conflict?
(Only you and I know what this poem is about.)
To be passionate, curious and untamed before we vanish into the void.
Do you see the way sadness can change us?
(The way our hearts break yet we continue to love ____ broken.)
The poets say the heart is never too full of passionate longing,
(but at some point)
we realize we are always In the middle of chaos wounded and disorganized always aware of our brief and temporary lives ____
my devotion to you was without meaning, enchanting and untranslatable.
(I was always in search of another poem)
____ but I lost you.
Sadly I could not stop the sorceress in me; always turning love to stone.
Now ____ we are invisible to one another.
Always the cold regret of knowing this truth, ‘you and I never allowed ourselves the undeniable beauty of being.’
(such a mistake)
I kept a barbed wire wall around my heart, no kissing on the lips ____
( other lovers in line ____ always pearls for passion )
I would protect my heart: everything else a barter, ____ until you.
You reflected my affliction you spoke of my sins you asked me to change
but why should I change? I am the sister of witches who wandered the earth before I was born ____
The whirlwind of a fury is the poem I authored for you, and though you leave me cryptic messages you still breathe into me the song of your silence the shadow of your discomfort.
Forgive me that I still care about you.
Forgive me that a part of me still dares not to let you slip from my memory.
The poets say the heart is never full, the poets are right ____
but when I decide to forget you who then my love will write poems for you and will my heart be empty?
The Owl
I wanted to find
a reason
why I disappeared.
Then the owl came
circling my thoughts ___
seducing my mind slowly
subtly coming closer.
Perched upon a broken branch,
his indifference
abstract and imposing
revealed my need for meaning,
for dark quiet places of intensity.
Sometimes I feel myself
dissolving into space,
I get smaller and smaller
until I no longer exist.
(meanwhile)
____ the self
shaped by desire
exposed by my insatiable need
moves ever closer to the fire.
But nothing will keep us alive.
I dreamt I asked the fates
why I was being driven
by transitory lust.
(the fates answered)
“Meaning only exists when you
are looking for it, it will tempt you
like a lover and leave you like a beggar.”
And I thought to myself
god, isn’t this what living is?
The wanting that feeds you
the raging storm that seduces you
and always the need for more.
I love
the way we hungered
for one another
the sensuality, the greed and the thirst.
Our bodies
wrapped in the animalism of urge
the predatory talons of
infatuation.
Then I realized what nourishes us
also destroys us.
I have felt my life
unwind like threads,
pulling me forward and backward,
until it’s hard
to put the pieces
back together.
Tonight,
the gilded owl
called out my name,
his voice so familiar,
his eyes
dark and sad.
___ did you even notice I disappeared?
Gesso Cocteau 2025