The Sea Villanelle

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A love that’s only known to me
Weigh anchor – Sail with the tide
When I’m off exploring the sea

A lass that’s sassy & steadily free
Couldn’t forget her, Lord knows I tried
A love that’s only known to me

When the winds cry like a Banshee
The ocean will be my endless guide
When I’m off exploring the sea

Venturing off to a land of palm trees
Needing to nurse my wounded pride
A love that’s only known to me

In spite of life, still merely a latchkey
Waiting for when my sails have dried
When I’m off exploring the sea

A pirate – all I ever wanted to be
I’ll forever hold who’s on my side
A love that’s only known to me
When I’m off exploring the sea

An Innocent Looking Soul

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An innocent looking soul
Draped with an ethereal gown
Confident strides across the patio
With Eve’s revenge
Crisp air – like the first bite of a green apple
Obscured; knowing her nectar to be my cure

I watch her bosom swell
It’s not objectivization
For I worship her
Refreshed in waves
This transparent Victorian hypocrisy
Knowing all that ails
& an unseen wound

Yet morning crests
Pale orange sky forces it’s way through space
In the arms of naked trees
I’m celebrating femininity
Spring’s arrival in a sundress
As she teases me with breathless recitals
Our love not by design
But still goes well with NorCal wine

Trying To Overcome An Existential Crisis

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Trying to overcome an existential crisis
Harking back to those foundational years
Emerging out of my own wounded shadow
Striving headlong into those ancient fears
Transitionally limping along these days
But my injuries aren’t those to be seen
Nor the stretch marks upon my soul
Yearning for the notion of becoming clean
Throughout it all, forever fond of the Blonde
Woman, hold me close to your breast
Tell me this life is going to be all right
That together, entangled; we’ll always be blessed

Anaïs Nin

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“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”
― Anaïs Nin