What is happiness worth to one who only sees

the subtle derision in every smile?

Or in life- quick

stolen moments, dulled by an artificial glow.

What a brilliant play life sometimes dreams,

in which the burden of being can be satiated

with epiphanic measures-

like plucking a single photon

from the sunset.

But here you are deceived-


full of Athens and warm electric nights,

pleasures to give each experience a value.


All for which we reduce ourselves to writhing forms

-hungry mouths meeting in a venomous exchange of lust-

I fathered the dawn.


And for this impertinence I am baptized



For what pleasure can one seek in

the company of desire- while desire

haunts the reverberation

where its final beat to be realized fades

into the rhythm of a child tracing the contours of your ear.

—-Jonathan Renfield


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