Sting of the Spindle

Mistakes made, 
but not me. 

While charging
this bigotry
I fail to fall
into what 
should be absence
of argument. 

Into an abyss, a 
Dark Traveler
I easily
Become if
I remain 
Unconscious. 

Our differences
Nauseate me
so I prick 
my finger in
order to 
Dream.

Pleased now that
our Prince Charming
is one in the same.

With love and 
libido generously 
mixed with androgyny.

So we can see
Eye to eye.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace