Where’s The Sun?

I used to orgasm imagining i was running to-

The sun.

To reach climax for the relief was spiritual

Sex for me has remained-

Emotional.

Now it’s perverse and sexual.

So, I hide inside-

The dark of the night

And only come out when the moon says

You’re safe now.

He has my best interests in his heart filled with craters

Other women scarred with playing with him.

In return as he heals mine,

I heal his

Together with these poems

Our best seller of our time with one another

I mean physically I am fine

And I can’t speak for you;

I want a love that is all mine.

Until perfection in the sun shines again,

I’ll write and sing to re-begin

Until I’m drained of my Irish stubborn spirit and mind

And my fists are limp and empty of fight.