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December 04, 2023


By John Tustin


Melan-collared by you.
Chained down like this.
Shackled to the moment I loved you
So much I dropped truth,
And reason.
Out here on Elba.
A slave on your plantation
Stringing garlands for your hair
Until my fingers bleed
And I am tossed the clippings
The people in the big house won't eat.

Demolished by the days,
I am lying among the flowers at your feet:
Worshiping your feet and merging with the flowers.
Delisted from your life,
A moment at a time
Over time.
My lips are blue
And yours are red.
You cannot even stand to be the friend
Of my friends.
I am a secret you hide from even your own heart.
When I no longer cause you to cry
I will cease to be of any use
To you.

I crossed the ocean and I climbed
The gate of thorns
Only to be told you did not want me to enter
Because someone might see me in your room.
Laying down your scarves and your jewelry,
Your hair wet with my tears,
You dismiss me until the moon is hidden
By the clouds and the shrouds.
Then you beckon me through the brambles
To love you when the night is purple
And the rest of them
Are safely asleep.

Melan-collared by you,
Every promise a link in the chain.
Pushed to the back of the closet
When the company arrives.
You loved me first.
I love you last.
We love and we love but
I love you best.
My arms and legs bleeding
From the brambles covering your tower,
I fall to my demise
Loving you best
And most
And last.

Article © John Tustin. All rights reserved.
Published on 2021-08-09
Image(s) are public domain.
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