All the calamity

Dark shadowy window sea

Of steaming iconic figures 

Of Religiosity and Spirituality

The light breaks daintly 

Through the crystal hall of heavy mirrors

And mirrored disco ball

The glistening slick of the reflecting light

Leaves me in a prism

U may call it a prison of my own creation

I felt the isolation of the spotlight and disco lights pulsing on my temples

The only place of worship lives in my mind and broken heart

My queer oblong face isn't too handsome 

To be the next contracted star

With too many scars and veins and freckles

With my bald head sunken down low

And the doubling of my protruding chin

Beseech my name Oh precious one

Why are you haunting me

I am not Shakespeare or Lestat

Or a protagonist of a queer philosophy

Or doctrine

I have doctored the bruises on my back and thighs and my own personal serpent

I wouldn't deserve this- I am every face you have seen before. And yet you spill lava on my face and try to sacrifice me to the volcano. I am not fit to live like this.

This is only draining to me. Then one day I was visited by two serpent like creatures.

That told me of a poison. I contemplated and wrestled restlessly if I should appropriate a way to take it. I decided I ought not. Although I yearn to say good bye. I am still a bit jolly. And I suppose I will try to see out of the fogged up window. One more day and I will be outside. Lifted to the clouds as I feel belief. That someone is watching over me.

There may be constant question of what exactly had occured to me. But I'd rather not drink the poison of the serpent. Or be sacrificed to the volcano. I can still look out at the sea of Venus. And all of the calamity. And through my heavily veiled whisper fan like eye lashes I see you have found me through all of my own calamity