To Nikkita: Whom I Could Never, Ever Reach Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

I am tethered to you,
And I do not know why.
The vultures have long taken you,
And you went with them –
You knew more than I do.

I careen towards your silken pavements
You are the only light
Between the beacons of night howls and wails.
But then, they have stolen you,
And I hold your wind like I hold
My own face as I search for wet portions –
You let them steal you,
And you knew more than I.

In these burning passion and intimate musings
That I lash out in the evening
Where everyone is asleep,
You knew nothing –
And perhaps, in the night
I knew more than you do
And that is, still,
I search for your blurry visage
In the midnight sighs and gnashing of teeth
Because of anger –
And in the morning, the burning passion
Will be gone, and the immense day
Will all be mine, and you took nothing
From this enormous day I hold, most alone.

I saw your vision across the glass
That seems to be penetrated by the Sun light –
And I knelt at that very picture of you
As it was portrayed in front of me,
But my hands could never reach
Nor seal that distance between your very
Close relationship with forgetfulness.
And so, these memories, these lull photographs
Will never leave me be in the night –
And so this, to Nikkita,
You might have conspired with them –
To those who stole you
To those who took you.
I know very well.
I know more than you do.