'where night is....
monotones of silver stars'

emotions
blues, greys,
summer tied
to our hair,
love on our
lips,
in a moment
we live and die,
kisses of golden
skies,
our dreamy heads
lost in the clouds
uprooted like a
strange plant, we
run to prove we're
still alive,
dance to say we're
beautiful and strong,
like a polished stone
we find ourselves in
weird pockets,
where the air sighs
where our ribs are no
longer a cage for
our breath
where the stars
hang like fisherman's
nets wrapped to
a black ink sky,
strange sea of stars
love so gorgeous
it sings like the
wild storm-grey sea,
where night is....

Little girl, your deepest fears have
Nothing on me.
Speak to me of your angst;
It's a miniscule bug to my foot.

Our pathetic misunderstandings
Are egos fighting the memories of
Each other in themselves.
Love is ***** and diamonds.

I love you prematurely when I
Sense spring on your
Skin. It turns me on beyond myself.
So let's just argue,

If that makes you feel as alive as you
Should beneath the hands of my
Unshared attention.
Little girl, your fears have nothing

On me.
I eat insecurity like sushi, wasabi
Memories of idiots telling you
You were never meant to write or

Be written of.
Grab yesterdays with the sticks of
Now-man's hands  
And toss them over your shoulder

Like salt after some you spilled.
Your deepest fear is as shallow
As a puddle.
I've shouldered ten times your

Weight, without love.
Watch me now.
You need not set a foot.
I carry you like the sky its stars.

The Room of Dancing Shadows,
undulating across the wall,
like ****** Persian ballerinas,
making no sound at all.
Reaching, retreating, a mosaic form,
eternally shifting the dark shade.
Pictures of no light in a flux,
remain fragmented, cold, unmade.
Hypnotising, random shapes in black,
swim serenely, start to slide.
The Room of Dancing Shadows
holds its fear deep, deep inside.


© Pagan Paul (03/10/16)

everything of
me was choir-song

every bolt of
air,
every summer
moon,
every drop of
cooling rain,

in spring i
melted like
a hedgerow,
in gold and
sky-bronze,

in summer i
gathered the sky
to my branches
green with shadows
of longing,

in autumn i trembled
downwards like a
girl unwinding her
hair,

and in winter i froze
on the doorstep
all black branch
and cold
rigging on
a barren ship,

everything of me
was choir-song and
i had the most
beautiful
purple throat,

i was a soft
melody of love
on a strange
moody day.