I am the night.
I am PVC.
I am leather and lace,
whips and chains.
I am a lair
of secrets in my holes.
I am a batcave
of wonders.
I am a top secret military operation,
screaming like a bat out of hell.
I am a defender
of justice and Jesus.
I want to avenge
our desires for love.
I have a fake voice
to conceal my real one.
I have a fake side
to conceal my real face.
I go to masquerade balls
wearing my real face.
I am a masked crusader
with a sore pussy.
I grew up in the underworld,
orphaned before I could remember.
I have giant bookshelves
and no time to read.
I laugh at the
riddles in my head.
I don't take myself too seriously,
but when I do,
I know that someone will hide my secrets
with white gloves.
I am a rescuer,
an anti-hero.
I am a myth
based on a true story.
My solitude is not loneliness,
but I still
You are polyvinyl chloride? You have to be careful, don't wear that stuff in a enclosed space or you could be asphyxiated. If you don't have a sidekick, why is your kitten sore? Could it be that you're doing it to yourself? All these things leave a lot of mystery in the mystery city called Gotham.
From the author of Jupiter Remembered and Until It’s Time: Embracing Life In Our Later Years comes Petals of Love: Poetry of a Woman’s Soul – a heartfelt collection spanning more than thirty-five years. Through tender reflections, these poems offer g
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Ron