A Poem for the Moon Mayor

The first time we met was at karaoke.
Your inability to keep a tune and inebriated confidence
were like watching a fat cat trying to jump on a counter.

I sang my song,
you sat by me,
and kissed my cheek.

Meanwhile my mind was on someone else, unattainable.
I pictured you were him.

Later, your paralysing kiss
dragged our bodies from the pub
to be shamelessly entangled,
strewn atop nearby church steps.
You then brought me to your yellow sheets.

I felt awkward
and I left your book on the church bench outside,
Told you that I did not want to see you again.

Two months later,
I texted you cruelly to see how you were doing
Because I felt bad, lonely
and because you were kind.
And I have never met a man that I can confidently say is kind.

An immediate response.
You took an interest in seeing me the next day.
The next three nightfalls were spent together.

——————————————————–

The coat you wear:
Warm with stability and kindness
The garment calls my name, whispering in my unstable ears.

Your childish smile
And paternal motivation
Balance your essence like a tightrope.

I jab my fingers into the volume of fuzz that is your hair
As you massage my neck and ask me about my day.

Repulsive shades of pale yellow and orange,
Intermingling with a pale blue,
Contour together and make a smile
That has never looked so good.

Bicycles scare me,
My scarred knees afraid of the seat.
Your body: adorned in valiant scars
Despite the risk, you still take your modern horse rides.

You once said you did not like the girls in anime
Their skirts too short
And their breasts to bulbous.

Knobs and buttons,
Python languages,
Wine & Beer,
Cowboys,
Spaceships,
Scattergories
Video games.

I am reprogramming myself
Against the codependent kiss,
Against my crippling force field.

The algorithm:
Falcon wings,
A runner’s patience,
Gallons of water,
Sugar free.

The code goes something like this:
0100 1001 0110 1111 0111 0111
0100 0011 0100 0001 0110 1110
0100 1001
0100 1101 0100 0001 0100 1011 0100 0101
0111 0100 0100 1001 0100 1001 0111 0011
0111 0111 1111 0111 0111 0010 0100 1011?

And this is how I feel:
#E41B17

Three days later,
I lay abject
rejected by
the full moon’s promises.

The voices of unlucky stars
Tell me:
You are karmically alone.