Deep in the concrete jungle,
Along the Highway
Trans-Siberian,
One with a
Blue complexion
Admires His
Reflection
In the window
Of a store’s
Facade.

Rama waits outside
For Sita.

Rama is an
Exorcism
Addict.
He lights a fag
Between his teeth
and watches
The dark spirit
Drift away.

A moth is drawn to
His light.

Naka
Sashays
Towards Him.
Clothed in drag,
Clothing drags
Her down,
But sHe can’t strip.
Not here.
Only butterflies
Can abandon their
Chrysalises.

SHe can metamorphose,
Though only externally.

Strands of
Cubic Zirconium
Dangle before Rama–
Strands of which sHe is
not.

SHe is not simply
A beautiful mirage.

Naka
Falls
For Rama.
Rama
Leans
for Her.
Prostrate and
Bent,
Blue and
Lavender...
Could it be
Love?

Sita emerges from the store
Like a butterfly from a chrysalis.

Naka
Trips on
Clothing
When Sita
Sets Rama
Straight.
Her
Disguise rips
At the seams.
SHe is
Flooded with
Fear.

If one is Uranian
Does that make one an alien?

Naka is crooked.
Rama is straight.
But sHe can’t be crooked.
Not here.
All must be
Straight in
Mother Russia.

Must one be hetero
To be a Homo sapien?

Now Rama must
Set things straight.

Rama is an
Exorcism
Addict.
He lights the fag
Between his teeth
and watches
The dark spirit
Drift away.

Once a beauty
Now a beast,
Because
SHe
Is the same?
Is one’s heart
Different
Without the
Masquerade?