Black Dandelion

The wind flapped its wings to a black dandelion,

caressed its petals, fondled its roots, seduced it like the Siren


I watched the wind and I wrote my own sin

while secluded desire burnt the heart in bonfire


As the stronger the wind blew,

the higher the black dandelion grew;

warm Spring faced its foe



My hands are tied

to the Moon on a tide

and to the wrong when it’s right


The night is now dimed but I keep writing my sin

Secluded fire, my heart is invaded by desire


yet the more restraint my soul whispers,

the stronger I shake the twisters;

and the Spring turns back to winters


For better or worse,

For the soul of every verse,

I’ll ride the wind, I’ll grasp my sin

I’ll let the desire burn its own fire dandelion!

Will I have you in another season?


(MN, Spring 2017)

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