tagNon-Erotic PoetryMyself: Portrait

Myself: Portrait


Ethereal logic,
shape and form.
The circumstance
is not the norm.
The subject matter
bold and true,
the reality magic
through and through.
Drawn and quartered,
grounded by four,
and split through the center,
like a knife through my core.
Coal dark blackness,
sanctified white,
and greys that change
my day to night.
What it means
is up to me.
It is my portrait.
It's all I see.
It's me.
All of it.

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