Cleaned

Sexuality: prime machine

Nature takes its course,

of course,

brought in fierce whipping winds

of change in my adolescent brain.

Confusion reigns.

Shame gains

in ascendant pain

stabbing stains and guilty rains

showing strain in each refrain

in my adolescent brain.

Later years and mixed up fears

Bring tears, and shear

away a soul. Morality is in arrears.

Then she...

...what? Brought new lens new angle new sight?

An old machine in a bright new light?

The sweet light shaft she lightly cast

lifts joy and redeems the gleam;

rust of shame and guilt is cleaned

until shine! Shine! Shine! It seems

a dream!

To feel the machine so clean!