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William R. Harvey Pirate Poetry Contest Winner

2:31 in the morning

India'Ray Davis

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I am not ripe enough for these things, for the life of a woman, I think listlessly.
I am but a starving lamb met with milkweed.
I sought companionship in men, never romance.
I knew that I presumed nothing past death.
I have come to terms with envy disguised behind the swan-necked weeds of lavender as attraction.
I do not have to concern myself with the affairs of gods that built me inferior
I desire to possess the traits that bewitch women
My whole life has been perceived by the sense of sight. I see words, I read books, I see smiles,
my mouth bends high.
I am kin to an actress staring at her own muddled expression
She knows that she is nothing without something to live through- nothing useful to superficial grandiosity.
Perhaps that is why my eyes felt ill-fitted for their sockets.
I saw girls with boys and I wanted a boy as a girl.
I saw religion and I wanted to believe in spirits.
I saw men enamor what despises them and I wanted them to myself.
Realization has gouged its thumbs into the beet that is my heart and exposed my carousel of rings to fresh air.
It has never been a stuntedness of self but a misplacement. I suppose it’s easy to mix up
profession for ignorance, to ironically define the actions that make you feel like everyone else,

as talent.
You do not applaud a fish for swimming or a tree for bearing fruit
So why do I feel the eyes of millions?

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