Your starlight in my skies: A poem 

The midnight oil is nutrition for my soil 

In waking dreams, like pearls from a roil 

This collage of you is sediment from toil 

like kind flames, from which touch doesn’t recoil 

I decipher the clues, even though your Latin is my Greek 

All mysteries can be solved by wisdom’s freak 

This confidence with which my soul’s faucets leak 

are the drumbeats of your spirit; my floorboards creak 

The influenza of evil’s breath is a moment’s contagion 

With your knives, I blunt all the devil’s talons 

For, there is a register of you in my daily ledger 

I can say I am yours with mighty pleasure 

All violets and blues, yellows, greens and reds 

are the rainbows that light up the prism of my head 

And I can even see the ultraviolets and infrareds 

in the starlight, over my skies, that you spread