in love i always lost myself
my heart open to those who passed
blind wanderer in a mirror possessed
like the sky’s reflection of itself
dissolving night after night
in the changing fire of men’s eyes
seeking myself in their light
in their variegated smiles
capturing their desires’ breath
in pretty bottles kept on a shelf
saving arrows as mementoes
testaments to my tale of woes
i’ll count wearily on my fingers
with names half-remembered
those to whom i surrendered
various portions of myself
as loves there were countless
my dear but don’t begrudge me
so rare is happiness
we all should have as much
but past joy and past distress
both seem now so long ago
since my eyes gave up their search
for loves in which i lost myself
while days without you seem endless
in you i find completeness
my soul not self-forgetting
but given wings
circling upward and flying
past the blazing blue of the wind
michele voltaire marcelin
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