Sunset: Tears too Bright to Dry

I have not loved enough
for having loved
too much and, therefore, lost my love.
Love soon decayed,
fed blandishments and phrases.

This lesson I would not trade
for a touring circus’
performance served on a plate
with towns and clowns and Ferris wheels
that turn and return too late.

For a mutinous twelvemonth marriage,
I was on the moon
and sipped sparkles of moonlight
I thought my right.
I may have even coupled with the light.

I gently combed time’s hair
and kissed time’s face.
And, at a loss, betrayed
my unfathomed fright;
so turned the lion loose from his long-locked lair.

Now in the month of May,
the lion rages,
who is but what I am,
having turned my back on cages
and cannot retain.

Resplendent, my midnight passion,
gone all too soon,
was a fiction of miraculous memory,
that, in tune with wishing,
was totally irrational,
but in some way, true.