Baby, It's Cold Inside (Perfect Storm, Pt.5) Poem by Axley Jade Blaze

I desire the one, my unhinged warrior, who would read between the lines.
I hunt for the one who always understood my signals and signs.
I desire the one who heard me when I didn't even speak, no; volume low but just fine.
I hunt for the one who'd written the same book, not just one page or a line.
Subliminal magic, 'Dark Sinema Seven'
The Big Brother I unchained as we traveled a glimpse of hell's heaven.

A lineage, not husbands, boyfriends—I already experienced them!
After enough time, they spoil like poisoned apples, rotten, couldn't stand them.
I wanted a man who was more than a significant other—
I wanted my twin, soul-mate, connected through something else, a devotee who was my protective big brother.
And, I returned the gesture; was anything needed, lover, daughter, child, mother.
Or any other.

But most important, a sister.
Who worshiped him, protected him the same—
This was something different!
Not bound by all the foolish societal labels, titles, names, and games.
NO—I wanted a secret lover, without rules, without anything, any aim.

Goodbye—
Relationships and marriage, big houses, being doused with
the mirrors, the grand act, and all that holy smoke.
Relationships which, at best, morph into nothing more than
a bitter joke.

What happened to this mate I would make love to just like dying?
Protect and die for, lie for, steal for, live for?

Where did he go? —my secretive lover who was my precious, devoted, protective big brother.

© copyright 2019-2024   Baby, It's Cold Inside   Nicole D'Settēmi