My Mind Aches Poem by Masiela Lusha

I think I’m finished.
My mind aches
With Ovid and Plath
How interchangeable
With Glück and Hall
How intertwined
In truth
This easy breath
Of philosophies
This seamless exchange
Of porcelain expressions
And chandelier words
And things and
Summer lovers
And yellow trees
Of quick embrace and war.
The phrases upon
Phrases
Long and unbroken
Varied and cultured
To figures of truth.
All truth.

Every syllable of rhyme
As crafted and formed
Reads modestly as truth.
All truth.

How sterling the voices
How commanding
Demanding, attaching
To the rings of my retina
How black and white
And deep inside my lies
My mind aches, dear reader.

I apologize for this weakness
Never found in other poets
Of the wisest form—
Never entering their art.
I’m humbled by the diversion
Of my patterned muses.

Oh, my mind ache.
To find the wisdom
Is truly the poem.