cellar, my cellar, moist and delicate

by Steven J. Serafiani

I like to write in the dark,
maybe it’s the shame,
the covered pupils unable to see naked fingers,
rubbing alphabet to climax,

I like to write in the dark,
maybe it’s the reverence,
the pronged fixtures peering and squinting,
perverts unable to see pure innocence,

I need to write in the dark,
maybe it’s the sociopath,
stabbing away in a corner bloodthirsty,
executable secrets to be found out,

I must write in the dark,
maybe it’s the persona,
never needed to be seen,
lauded the loneliness curtain mysterious,

to write in the dark is to write in the truth,
the truth that breaks even the most ungenteel.

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