The Nights Are Long Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

I think I have lost it,
Because the nights are immense,
But I have lived to tell the tale
Of the passing of the stars,
And the effacement of the lunar tail
And so I have vied for long –
Long enough to outlast cold,
Strong enough to be an erstwhile in this
Collection of maudlin souls and thieves
There are times,
When the passing of the arms of the clock
Finagles into oblivion – a fragmented forgetfulness
And I have grasped it with my bare hands of jaundice
My eyes of bent bliss,
And my heart of emptied garrisons
-
Yes, the nights are long –
And the moon’s harlequin forebodes distraught
Now I can see in pristine clarity
The Sun’s flambeau;
The moon is no longer my dominatrix
But then, at times
I envisage a face in the lull clouds –
And from that image, vestal yet sepulchral,
The clouds whirr turbulently,
Causing the rain to pour like tridents
It is raining again, and how you hated the rain
I still remember, and how you loathed me
For the love and all of me, that appeared to be
Insufficient for a soul of finicky
And so, at times, I lose you,
At times, I quiver by the mere longing I feel
But then I remind myself,
The night is long,
But the Sun and its wavelengths are longer.