Songs For Georgia: #7 Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

The stars are poignant in their wayward scintillation
And in this asylum, I notice a lot of things:

The leaves disentangle from the trees,
The city buoys are consumed by the grotesquerie
Over time,
The hands of the clocks leave vestiges
Signalling all that was lost
And the moments we could have captured
Underneath the efflorescent Sun.

And sometimes, I notice you
Even though your furlough is as evident
As the sunlight that clambers over the hills.

Your hollow eyes,
Resilient hair of ebony,
Your lavish soul,
Your beautiful mind -
These are windows
To your core,
Your distinctions,
Sophistications -
Such sordid fancy the world holds.
You have stolen the beauty
In everything
And they gladly let you,
And I will let you eagerly
Steal all of me
In this superb thievery.