Conversion

It was almost February--

livid skyline sinking into the city,

moist air hanging like a mantle,

 

we locked ourselves out of the world,

in your rented room behind the theater

where drunks panhandled for pennies

and movies played all night long.

 

You wore a t-shirt and jeans,

holding that old acoustic guitar,

infusing the room with your voice--

you were a saint on a pilgrimage,

converting me a little more each day.   

 

When I closed my eyes I could see Utopia,

forever in the bosom of two great mountains,

a verdant valley split open by a vein of turquoise,

and as your notes suspended me

beneath a halcyon sky, I felt yearning

 

beyond rapture or salacity, more

than mere desire, I internalized the beating

of your youthful heart, and in that moment,

behind my insubstantial exterior I was Anath

ready to bleed for you gladly,

in protection or simply at your petition.

Reviews

[G. Marie"floating on an..]

I love this poeml I found myself getting lost in this moment then waking up at the end. a beautiful place to visit thank you for taking me there a breath of fresh air "ready to bleed for you gladly in protection or simply at your petition" NICE LOVED IT!!!!!

[Constance-Outspoken]

I love the way your poems paint pictures of places, people, and emotions as well. I think that that would have to be the defining quality of your work.
This one is a prime example of your talent, though the end left me wanting more, a summation of sorts. Still, the work resonates with me, and I see so much as I reread these lines.
Amazing job. Thank you very much for giving us another little glimpse of the world in your thoughts.