Shadey Lady

For I am me, not entirely what you see

Painted, polished, put on for the world.

And I love myself for it and for it I despise.

I am honest in my vane, through which my blood flows,

Pulses, pushes, permits this bodily existence.

And what is there without the body?

How am I to know?

For the body is all I can see and therefore accept,

And therefore discover, and therefore desire.

And I love myself for it and for it I despise.

Warm skin with cold shiver, a gust presses

Hard against my back.

He presses hard against my back, fingertips

Like cotton pressing soft against my back.

We tumble with the tumbleweeds, rolling

Round the desolate expanse of the sheets.

And I love myself for it and for it I despise.

For the expanse stretches far beyond

The four corners where I lie.

The same sun that bathes my breast

Feeds the tender tulip, guides the wandering goose.

The greatest orb imaginable,

Giver of life, direction, and pleasure.

I believe in you sun and in you I question.

Such radiance offered freely,

To every man, woman, and child.

Departing long enough, inviting obsession,

For beneath the golden splendor I feel your affection.

My need for you sun grows as you diminish,

And many days without you darkens my spirit.

I believe in you sun and in you I question.

How could you leave me when I love you so?

How could you allow my lust to overgrow?

With you such pleasure, without you such despair,

I am under your heat spell.

Warm sun reigns my existence but it will not rule me,

Blinded by the light without you I can not see.

I believe in you sun and in you no question.