Poem for Ila

I don't tell her how many poems it took.

How many looks through shades of the past

Through books I wrote,

Through the stories that were stories of lust.

I stand at the edge of the world.

She stands at the edge of heaven, proud.

I want to take a leap of faith but the chains pulling me down are too heavy, oh Lord!

Why all this Mercury?

A day, two days, three days, and four

My sordid stories become stuff of lores,

My books,

My books only have stories of lust.

She says she's gonna love me now,

How do I tell her?

My lungs ache and my heart runs slow,

My arteries don't bring blood anymore-

My arteries don't bring blood anymore-

My poems of love are stuff of lores,

My poems,

Even my poems are poems of lust.

And then she said, "Poet, have faith."

My antidotes won't work, so I get to work

I don't see God, but the lady does,

Her battles leave scars, I can't really mark,

Cuz my life,

Even my life is one that I had given to lust.