Long Distance (a sonnet)
The sun shines through the stain glass you made for
me. It hangs in the window that brightens
my bed. The light is a cascade of color.
Whites turn blue, grays turn yellow by the moon.
You fuck me under this light and tell me
lies I will believe. Our skin pulses these
colors. Your words more intoxicating than
the light that you cast, when we fuck-day-time.
Your honest about your lies, there is blue
on your tongue. I can taste it. It’s growing
black, every kiss sends it streaming down my throat.
It’s coating my lungs now, next my heart –Black.
There is something so close about being so far away.
Your colors are blurred now, like a Monet.