I long to resist the desire of physical intimacy,

a deceit embedded in that static buzzing in my ear

gazing at the sun for warmth 

the world said repent

and now is the time to grow

I ache for a new world to spiral into my wake

who am I to love you

Heaven is fleeting in my view

a decaying fruit on the sidewalk stares back into me

I am the black dandelion

blowing like ashes in the wind

fuzziness in my core

a spiked sensation rippled from my head

yet

sensitive under the weight of wind

to recognize the strength in my sensibility

to sense a downward motion coming from my own 

and to see a reflection I truly recognize as home

ripple in the reflection I seek

erase the odes I once sung that blew away my thistles 

in place for empty promises

from my memory

I no longer await for the sun to spiral towards your face

only for the glare to make me shudder

there is no room for thorns on my spine

I uphold the capacity to love

and the polarity of hate

but I refuse to let it mold me into thorns 

that I am not

do not project your sorrow upon me 

I kiss your fears into vagueness

I am a black dandelion in sunlight

and at dawn I am the same being

Resisting the pressures of time’s envy

I still feel limp under the weight of my thistles

but I sit

and I linger in the gaze of sunlight

for a new world to wake underneath me