Desire-Tinged and Ruby-Dark

“My interests became more diverse as my actions wilder. Among that lay the worse affections of my personality, desire-tinged and ruby-dark...” (‘Here Are My Knives of Night’, a memoir, chapter 24)


Desire-tinged and ruby-dark,

Amid the crests, oh once so bold:

Faces that reflect scar’s burn

Of tradition, an ancient one to learn.


Desire-tinged and ruby-dark,

The glance begins with its mould;

The path is overgrown with moss,

Wherein the sturdy stoneway lost.


If hearts are gold before mankind,

Such souls must darken at all touch,

For inimitation gives a fickle sheen

Of blood-rose sparked with elegance mean.


It is the power where sympathy is blind,

One question comes to ask too much:

And in partnership, if lies are right,

Does the union resolve in flight?


True innocence is hard to find,

Where instead rich passion brushes;

Answers are focused too much on self,

Centrics of the ego ever bending health;


It belongs to a sense of mind,

The animal of life to sin rushes,

Painting lines upon naked stark,

Creates eroticism from invisible dark.


Desire-tinged and ruby-dark,

Whene’er the body does fold;

My bitter lust on you is held,

Your nature to run is fast dispelled.

The End

362 comments about this poem Feed