Impoverishment

Derived from the city, emphasised by morning
I was once sick, love did not like me
I could not be honest with myself.
Maybe I am becoming ill to you
scary or clownish.
Maybe I darken in movement
my colours of dread
congratulate thin moons & wastes
seeking all the addictions of life, the veil
of consumerist gauze, fears of vertigo
night clubs, the public gaze?

Maybe it is a trick.
Still, I would kiss you
and not be despised
drink you within this embrace
go in my ways through this city with wide senses
trying to learn the nocturne that guards
the one I have left.
It may be quiet now, though I am behind fields
through avenues
though I am neither wide awake
nor exactly mindful.
I come back with my taste of world smoke.
May I not be caught
in retails of impoverishment.

Or my other fear - one day to walk out
on a great plaza where transports are loaded ahead
and discover you packing
the heart of the matter, escaping this fortress
where we are inoperative as women.

Will I be cruel in jealousy
that overthrows us with vehemence
and in flooding, drowns us?
As though in a dream, a fainting legend
rather than this life - here.