Poem: My Other Me

My other me whispers in my head
With a voice as soft as the hand
Holding out a ring,
A voice called into being from the spit
Of Lucifer. And my heart flusters
Like the cautioned frenzy of the finger
Waiting to be calmed by that same ring,
Forged from the seven precious stones.
My fate becomes sealed
And I become Adam,
With an apple taunting in my throat.
At the same time Eve, stripped naked
By the unruly hands of conscience.
I also become a warrior, wielding weapons
Hammered in the armory of my thoughts,
Fighting my ways through troubled thoughts
Like an agitated wind winding
Through tree branches,
Only to be lulled again
By the soft whispers of my other me.


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