I don't paint.
But tonight, in the crowd.
Amid the drunk beards and the gentle, bobbing women.
With cell-phones seen raised in the air from every angle and every perspective.
While five men in hats danced and sang on a stage.
Light beamed from their faces and the ground shook with every kick of the drum.
My father on one side, my sister on the other.
My body moving left and right.
My hand on my chest and my lungs on fire
My eyes closed and my chin up.
I wore a sweater with a paint stain on the sleeve.

Remember when we were happy
and nothing could take the sun away from us
that kissed the backs of our necks
and warmed our cheeks

Nobody could end our adventure
for we were young and in the woods
there was no time

Remember the games that never got boring
and the way we wandered
the trees like they never ended

Youth pulsed through our blood
and ran in through our veins
like the way we ran down the stream

Time didn't exist
We radiated happiness
Under the sun was eternity
And I wish I never left

In the sacred palace of our dreams
the only place we often meet
the Snow is called
Lust
the vicious Tiger you call
Trust
where only he can love her
where only she can mutter
where by dark twinkling light
she screams and moans in white

her light is a bright and glowing fire
the only thing she knows, desire

older hands than yours may catch fire
a canary in a cage sings of desire

You have beautiful hands.
So wrong to write about a taken man.
To desire such a forbidden lust
but to be wrapped in your arms would be perfect
introduce me to your art
bring that passion to me with those lips
It's been a long time since I longed for a kiss.
To feel you a against me would be beautiful
(like your messy, curly hair, oh my I am swooning.)
Before now I've been making it up
like a play-write, a poet, an actress,
hoping for just this.
Can you hear my heart beat from four doors away?
I want to laugh with you all night long.
Please tell me that it will be done.

In the moment just before wake,
The last fragment of a dream eludes my grasp.
As I cannot distinguish thought from memory,
I am astounded that my imagination could conjure such bliss.
If only at will…

Not every night, but some,
I see what I am capable of.
Mind at ease and running free,
Latching on to these ideas
That exceed my perception.
And my attempts to recall or review,
Are but failed attempts, futile.
Deemed too beautiful for consciousness,
But from what I can remember-

I fight, I play,
I sight, I run from beasts.
I find, I make,
I lose, I have the world.
I live, I breathe,
I meet, I die sweet deaths.
I fly, I kiss,
I smile, I love it all.

The fluidity of instances, the current of time,
No-these do not exist in my mind.
Or are rather transcended,
Bent, broken, then mended.
Allowed in my altered state
To transform and create
A world where everything is designed to please me,
While, simultaneously, my fears run free.
Ah, but not too much to handle.
I have fragments, puzzle pieces, crumbs…so little.

Oh sleeping self! I beseech you
Spring alive and come and teach me
All the wonders you have known,
But sadly do always withhold.
Revise my mind, what poor creation.
Have mercy on my indignation.

Am I really to believe
That you are so wiser than me?
Smiling, sleeping beauty, I
Foresee the dangers of the eyes.
Masterfully handicap
My body to this nightly trap.
Thus looming possibilities
Of habitual retreats,
Delights in excess to relieve
Me of my duty to receive
Signals from reality,
Abundant sensory deceit,
Of forlorn mental interactions,
Of achieving distant affectations,
Obtaining hopes and admirations,
Beholding nonsensical perfection,
All this, too more, are so designed
That my mind can never wholly dine
On the enticingly addictive
Highly imaginative symptoms
Of the body’s hidden fluid source
That rarely tends to make its course.
But holds great power menacing,
As well as gently flowering.  

I envy you, my resting mind,
My well worthy unconsciousness,
Whose power is tempted unconstricted,
Whose fascination’s limitless.
Who teases me, a window shop,
An ocean reduced to a drop.
The very inkling I most relish;
Waking memory’s a feather precious.
Delicate and dancing ‘round,
High hopes, in journey, treasure bound.

Embers of my change glimmer within nights breath.
To bask in the flaws my dear we have nothing but endless hours.
Short as in a razor gleams bare were your thoughts cloaked in the
nothingness of my soon departure.

Wicked is she was a poison I would forever embrace.
Are we but mortal in coil so sinful my design.
Ruff she lingered for that which was a bruise .
Fond were the memories cast with sugar laced regret.  

Break my desires allow my insecurities demise.
**** the flesh only to tarnish the soul.
My hells have seeped within forecast of shadows and a premature demise.

Pulled in pleasure a lash of release .
Do we find a part missing keys lost unlock doors never known to are
existence will you embrace the farewell as I already have my dear?

I'll give you the fires without the signals taste the rage without the pain.
Storms have bounded what never was together to begin with.  

Nights ride a clash of bodies finds us a fragment of lovers now frozen
are thoughts as burnt are those hidden desires.

Tomorrow means nothing as page left empty needs only your
words to create.
Tomorrow knows nothing but what we have made of tonight .