Another Call to Paris
Discord’s apple has again fallen into my lap
Its poison is sweet
And under its influence
(I laid to rest my mask.
With new clarity I envisioned deception;
(Your core is worm eaten
But your eyes stare hard with unbreakable will
That if I only knew how, I would myself destroy—
Proof that lust has swindled love again.
(Is it true you were once as dumb as me?
I mean unable to speak.
Is it true you were once inside of me?
All this tragedy and Greek.
The fatality of reason has been seen before
In eyes less bright than these.
(I stare at a reflection I’d like to strangle
Hold you under my blood.
But like one who for too long stared into the sun
I see beauty now nowhere else.
True it is that I am now blind
(And I could never very well read
Your expressions, intentions, or motivations.
The deaf can hear better than I
This blaring music,
A signal so obvious.
(I make no observations at all
On that which has passed.
You labeled me an idiot fly on the wall,
But to you again I am drawn
To the nectar in your voice’s call.
The apple rolls on the ground
Freed from the skeletal grip of my hand.
Now that I have finished,
Lick clean this poison from off my lips.
Patrick Conners Jr
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