All While Waiting for the Day

In the dead of night,
a warm embrace,
in the cool moonlight,
a stolid retrace,

Of fingernails scraping skin,
and pallid moon grace,
all while waiting for the day.

A garnered collection,
of watered down rejection,
a billet paid,
a fillet laid,

Down on my plate,
and next to the wine,
they nestle neatly,
where fingers entwine,

Embers go flaring,
and winds come tearing,
through the room,
where we now lay,

I’m high as a kite,
and cold as stone,
emptiness and nostalgia,
make me feel all alone,

I’m wrapped in you,
and wrapped in them,
the voices high,
with pity and contempt,

They call to me,
and chide in tone,
they cut through me,
just like a comb,

A lady strong,
and lady fair,
bring me some wine,
and bring me to care,

For a person in this world,
other than me,
a person is this world,
who makes me feel free.

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