I Shine By The Light Of The Unknown Moment

On Incandescence

by Jenn Howe

You are not my sun.

That magnificent, magnetic hope

Has yet to unfold

His fated face to mine.

Yet just as careless children grasp

At untethered things that fly and fascinate,

You cast your covetous net over me.

Consent is of no consequence to your illegitimate claim.

I am the hunted, haunted thing

Crushed by countless greedy hands

And the egocentric dreams of others.

I don’t dream of you.

All ardor and no compassion,

You pressure and provoke until I’m undone

With suggestions that I’m the one.

But you are not my sun.

That great star rises above the horizon,

But not where I lie, stolen and cold.

The only light that strikes my cage

Is as artificial as your friendship and affection.

A fraud as big as my empty sky,

You tried to disguise that my insides were the real prize.

Now I lie here stuck and smothered, sticky with your iniquity,

Pin-split and dead-still.

You took away my open field,

But none of you have won –

You are not my sun.

And I belong to no one.


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