The Spring Time of Her Voodoo

by Nix

Once I had a secret,
had a secret and impaled
ring on unwilling silence,
obligating myself to eternity
with static mystery of mine...

Once I, like a scorpion,
wrapped around her provocative elbow.
Twice. Three times.
Eight times I disguised
my laced wounds with coal,
nine times.
No, eight times,
eight or zero?
Or it was eight hundred times?

Once, I told a lie,
twice,
when I said
that I erstwhile spoke the truth;
were that
under the summer birches
when this from shadows and glue
forged friend
got that secret,
and left birch,
and cause of its fragrance
all leafs,
nature,
and his nose
which dismissed, unsatisfied with escape.

I tried to stay
just a shoulder in a haze
which danced around her weak eyes,
your eyes,
did I accosted to herself?
Once,
twice.
I accosted to her each time,
and when I hated stars
and when I kissed stars;

I tried to stay just a shoulder,
never lips,
nor eyes,
I tried to banish anguish from your pupils,
but never to be the one for who you will anguish,
I tried to stay only a friend,
never a lover,
but once, I had a secret...