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.