Where's the Sun?
Where’s The Sun?
I used to orgasm imagining i was running to-
To reach climax for the relief was spiritual
Sex for me has remained-
Now it’s perverse and sexual.
So, I hide inside-
The dark of the night
And only come out when the moon says
You’re safe now.
He has my best interests in his heart filled with craters
Other women scarred with playing with him.
In return as he heals mine,
I heal his
Together with these poems
Our best seller of our time with one another
I mean physically I am fine
And I can’t speak for you;
I want a love that is all mine.
Until perfection in the sun shines again,
I’ll write and sing to re-begin
Until I’m drained of my Irish stubborn spirit and mind
And my fists are limp and empty of fight.