Blunderer Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

I am flawed
My eyes cradle a downcast flame,
My hands stagger to the supple strokes
Of the calloused wind;
It is when you are juxtaposed to my
Cumbersome body that I feel the impressions
Of your gradual motions leave in a deliberate retreat
As I fret through the lonely walls of defeat
And a florid repose.

I do not hold empires - only an incarcerated flame
That I give to you in the caliginosity
As the barren rooms are blind in the austerity
That suffices no unwavering calmness
So take this fire and build an ocean
Of passionate blaze
There, your visages will be emblazoned
As I trace them one by one until I sculpt
You into a corporeal mist.

As we sift past the reminiscences
And confiscate the remnants past the rubble,
You compare yourself to the precedent -
I will declare that you are unsurpassable
You are unprecedented - you are the only
Flower I foster and nestle within the core
Of my unstinted embroidery.

I am a blunderer and I hold only a marred purity;
You have burnished me anew with your palette-kissed heart -
The key to my only ebullience