An alpha of all,
business and body.
My brother inhales the chase.
Complicit in his own addiction;
he pursues an ironic paradox:
The fruits of man
-purse and flesh;
his trinkets owning his future,
strangers
-love’s placeholder.
I rest in the life of another,
in a dishonest past;
a retouched memory,
sombre, stained a rose’s hue.
Yielding and regressing,
to a former self;
with sight more tranquil,
wit breathing unspoiled,
though vision untrue,
distorted by a lens seeking solace.
My soul pours
for Jeni,
Jhené,
and Janelle Monaé.
Their melodic oeuvres
a soothing poetic massage.
Beautiful heroines
birthing love’s shy vision.
Our time dims twilight to our birth,
as we forecast a spring never-ending,
our blossom forever in bloom.
We share optimistic lies,
wishing on an unlikely future.
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Temptations echo
as Tupac ruminates
on clandestine longing.
My eyes listing
across your profile’s face.
Our departure long formed,
an ocean of years between us.
The first drop spilling
a premature end
to a former friend.
On your face I see
your successes, exciting and contemporary;
and my heart outlines a jealous love.
With my heart my weapon,
I compete for yours.
My opponent equally equipped,
though seemingly more adept.
I dived in bed,
A brief respite before I leave.
For a moment I smelt you;
Your scent in my sheets,
I was happy.
I was with you.
J.C. FitzDerick 