Moonlit Love

At night, I fight make-believe wars in my head
Trying to conjugate verbs with no actions
Feeling black, but glowing bright
Against the pale moon light
I stare straight, but my thoughts bend
Towards the wind that flutters west of my existence

My insomnia is caused by hydrogenated thoughts
Floating out of me taking pieces of me
Up to the sky where I truly feel I was born to be
But maybe, it helps to be grounded and remain
Humbly concreted to the Earth’s surface
As I use the leverage to subdue mental contraband
I hold in my head and I hold in my hand
As I touch myself wishing it was you

The hue that clouds my face like a veil or like
My veiled existence, poppin’ hot like Crisco
Cooking biscuits in a frying pan because
The stove won’t light
Well lit maturation of a slave turned free thinker
Pulling my future through a funnel
My past has become a tunnel and with each passing day
I write

Words to paper, I beseech you to visit me through this pencil
As I collect you through my mental stimuli that
Sets my body on fire, blowing blue flames across
The wicked terrain that shakes and rattles on
Ungreased wheels propelling the Earth around in
One circle every 24 hours
I devour the paper, once the words create her and I know
Through it, through you, it is black Love that keeps me. . .
Awake