Puppeteer
My sweet girl, my primrose path;
Beauty and desire, burned together into one.
Perfect angel descended from stars.
Couldn’t be captured or contained,
Moaned and groaned when I molded her wings.
She glowed with smoldering heat,
Power crescendoed from a heavenly body,
“The devil lived inside her;”
Because I placed it there,
And she was beckoned far from Eden.
I longed for performance,
“Dance for me pretty girl, do my bidding.”
She lived for connection,
“Let me take you by the hand,
I want to show you my world.”
Her free-will paired with mine,
But she created everything.
Love was her magnum opus;
All the world and those within it,
Her canvas, her blank page, tabula rasa.
She picked up the pen while it was still aflame,
And rewrote me into a new existence.
When a Goddess ascends into your world,
“Observe and experience;”
Be innocent as doves, and wise as serpents;
For she has want for nothing more from you.
She was so much more than pixels on a page,
The realest Spirit I ever divined.
And she colored my life,
With a wonderful paradox, a holy confusion,
“A staticky screen;”
Right until the lights cut out.
-Garrison