Pastures I

Thoughts uninterrupted,

Spine to the earth, surrounded by grass, leaves, all that ever was and ever will be,

Lost in misguided notions, ’til love finally found me.

I think back to lovers who’ve called me their ecstasy –

She let me course through her veins like torrential rains,

Until I flooded her whole with half-truths and ire.

Born in the fire, I kept taking what I wanted.

Short of light-hearted, there wasn’t much to deposit. 

I wept not, when he and I finally departed.

Darker parts of my history could desimate the next man’s sanity,

Though I transcend past pain and vanity, ribs aching with reality –

Let us shed our cloaks, we joke but true lives hide behind each line,

You can pick a place, that’s fine, but now is always the right time.


(The Beach at Honfleur – Monet; photographed at LACMA)

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