Tristan Robert Lange

In the Legs of Loss

I gave all of me,

My whole,

My everything—

All of me

That was mine

To give—

My mind,

My beliefs

My bleeding barometer;

Shared in solemn betrothal.

My body,

Intertwined in loss’s legs—

Warmed by wryd’s wet warren—

Shot forth my potency.

Enigma’s ejaculate entombs in the womb.

My soul—

I know, this is quite a roll—

Given without thought,

To Eros’ black hole,

Which if one

Thinks, is how to dole

Out willful obscuration

For an emaciated whole.

No more.

© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.