Ah, to see your face again
Those shadows dancing on your skin
Reflecting aches of looks that kill
All my hopes, paint-layer thin
But nothing lasts in this cold moment
My gaze unwanted, though you still own it
I had a soul—for you I’ve sold it
Is there a Christ for my atonement?
Is there a chance that you would offer?
I know you well enough, don’t bother
To know, like sheep led to the slaughter
I know nothing of your loves and lovers
Do you not think that I had noticed?
Was it all steam without a purpose?
Oh God! It seems I do deserve this:
Hurricane-churned heart and bleeding roses
Melancholy—that brute obsession
Devils replaced my prized possessions
Had I obtained your daft permission…
Why not decide your own decisions?
You see, even the insane trod that path
Where love and lust is solved by math
Where thoughts of saint and sinner clash
You wouldn’t know, or would you, ma’am?
Was I polite? was I rude to you?
Were you a ghost or did I see through you?
I’m all scarlet-lettered over you
You wouldn’t know or would you?
Poem written by Moses Y. Mikheyev
Dedicated to the once and future, L. Wells
In memory of a romance that would not be…