funny poem

musing, between the sunset and the dark
some of the hurts you have cured
now while my lips are living
which keeps
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
out of me unworthy and unknown
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
why do
often is it not so?
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
they ask me where i've been
to the passionate lover
i went up and down the streets
in the cloud-gray mornings