but wow
the fire
the magic
of us kissing and dancing
was a sorcerer’s brazier.
and the oxygen
that the flame demanded
left me breathless.
the euphoria of that night,
however,
met grim ponderings,
for I’d fall from the Garden
without a doubt —
at my heart’s mercy,
her decision final —
exiled,
cast away from the Father,
from Eden,
if a man stole my passions.
but the fruit’s only forbidden
because of my position
on the family tree.
it would hurt her
way more
than it would hurt me.
it gives me comfort
to know
that I could make myself cold
and walk away
from a village I left burning,
delightfully set ablaze.
if that’s how I need
to meet its warmth
then so be it.
I’d walk away
without a doubt,
and she’d be left weak
obsessing
and made to come around,
for I know her.
therefore,
I do not worry.
but…
you bought me flowers.
you kissed my forehead…
you…
made me feel so safe.
and that kiss
made me feel things
that shocked me, still yet.
every time I’m with a man,
the reality smacks me
with the force
of the bliss
that surprises me
each and every time.
this…
is real.
it made me feel…
so happy.
why must all things have a cost?
I’d pay it any day —
I wish I didn’t have to —
but you better fucking believe I would.
I knew since I was 16
the first time
the Eveningstar of my heart
shined and flickered
for a man,
heralding a strange night’s beginning,
that I’d gladly fight the world for love.
…
as Janis sang,
“freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose“
THE CLOSET MYSTIC 