The Ode – To Him.

I love you, my ode to finely made heavy lines,
Of roughly etched beauty and finite mortality,
My sweet reminder of the eternal torture that
Fleshly wonder brings.

 

I trace around your form until it defines
My mind’s warped rules of probability.
Skewed. Full of worry from our concordat.
Soul and Reason above kings.

 

I’ll take my eye to the full art that is you
And erase all past erring on such
Mundane topics, ugly, vapid and plain
In the wake of your shadow.

 

Topics on paint, wings, light that flew
Through artists’ windows. Much
To do with nothing. But you, pain
and pleasure brightly glow.

 

Let me have it. This short
Stunted knowing.
This lovely, awful needing.
I am yours to extort.