panoptic eye memoirs

I'm a self inverted voyour
watching is a perched telescope so high
elevated on a marble pedistal
over te city watches the panoptic eye
the city skyline and all its erections
it's pure jouissance for the metropolitan girl
miss independent
she explores with no protection

I hide and seek
enjoy the view from down below
as skirts flounder and bras are thrown
watch myself indulging in her loins
in some humid studio apartment
I protect her from the skyline and its erections...
with my own

For a moment i'm a city hero
Gotham cant hold a candle to me
i wash away all her insecurities
pooring like rapids of sweat from her skin
her satin sheets have now adopted them
her loins have adopted mine

merely watch myself shine
I commit the ultimate jouissance crime
I blindly cross the perversion line
with no regard for space and time...

fracture the norm
like water into wine
the inverted voyour changes form
my act is holy and devine
but the panoptic eye sees
heated apartment scenes
manufactured therapy
misunderstood climatic dreams
insecurities being dissolved in some emancipating texture of cum
and the self inveterted voyour remaining numb

last winter

The cedar tree thrives in the snow
it beckons for the cold
it gives it life
i watch it grow

I'm concaved somewhere in a cabin,
in the cold
getting old
it's a season like winter
i'm locked inside
shedding skin,
licking old wounds
you know the ones,
with the attached stigma that time would heal?

If it were a riddle and time just is...
I would be Billy Pilgrim
prisoner of the cold
just not a prisoner of war
without a means to battle
or experience with ammunition
i assume my condition

some cocked back trigger wont stop staring at me
it's only penetrating cold led
but for warmth i beckon
and the smoking ammunition will oblige
smoking hot copper barrel,
cold led in my head
Billy Pilgrim's dead