Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Blessed Be Your Graciousness

Who said the fruit is forbidden?
Who said the treacherous fruit that bleeds and enslaves
Should be kept from blooming so divinely?
Overpowered as I am by this impetous desire,
I leave certain questions unanswered.
Let me not to this command succumb
Like a door that is pushed open by the rude intrusion
Of untimely storm winds.
What an honest indifference!
What a solemn cowardice!

Let this all be a satire, a secret that is heard
And then hastily forgotten.
These tainted thoughts, these sensual scents lingering so sweetly,
So desperately,
These shattering shamefulness.

Yet I speak of you and tremble like a villain
that has repented his malefactions.
I speak of you and my words are my tyrants,
holding me in their despising grip.

Yet I know I am lost, traveling in this sea of calamity
and hopelessness and dancing with shadows
and shadows of my shadow.
Blessed be your graciousness that damns me thus.

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