to my paramour of a thousand plastic pieces

I felt the glaze of
your irises, a stormcloud environment that
takes thunder and reduces it to nuisance,
downgrades lucidity
to ludicrous
ambition;

stealing an unfinished
work and listing
all its flaws.

So I abstain from
your quest for
a plastic identity, even as
you tempt me with
an immortal youth.

Wisdom is rarely
kind to those who disguise
the rise and fall they’ve
weathered,

and no true
sage lets himself be
tethered to the censorship

of human beauty.

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7 thoughts on “to my paramour of a thousand plastic pieces

  1. Holy smokes. That is BRILLIANT. “Wisdom is rarely
    kind to those who disguise
    the rise and fall they’ve
    weathered,”

    Like

  2. Just when I think I have encountered the apex of your poetic brilliance, you deliver upon the page another startling example of intellect and captivating wordplay that is as entertaining as it is beautiful. Exceptionally sensational.

    Like

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