Into light

Verse, Virtue, Vices

There is a darkness
that our tremulous adoration
cannot rescind or slay.

There is something in us
that skulks in the grotesque
headspace between
our diasporic minds,
rejoices in the valley
of our worst grief and folly.

Tell me its name,
how it calls in every
adumbral doorframe
and vesperal void,
the surreptitious face
of our monstrosity.

Speak out loud
that which only
your fear has known.

Tell me you’ll hold my hand as
I confess the nightmares and
draw you a map of graves,
shallow rivers running over bones.

The quiet is scaring me, love
so stay beside me until we find
the words to hearken dawn.

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Darkest Passions

I must admit, I do not know
Whether it is the eerie glow
That makes your secrets interest me
Or if it’s something I can’t see.
But always, you have filled my mind
With sense of power over mankind:
It helped me through on solemn days
(And in some more erotic ways)
To ponder evil over good;
I feel more curious than I should.
The elusive secrets of your magic
Could turn into something tragic:
Why then, do you lure me in?
Today I count another sin.


A response to Mara Eastern’s Poetry 101 Rehab: Dark.