We came from dreams

Arrived in our beds

Having just been separated,
we formulated plots                that would return us to each other.

A switch from the subconscious sparked miles between us.

We talked through wires until it was no longer tolerable.

I went to find you, and found myself with you, the journey blurred.

There were others. They were all beautiful. But then darkness took our
                                                                      sight.

And everything was quiet.


I had never known beauty unseen, unheard.
                                                 but...you touched me

You felt me, like a cloud feels a mountain peak before taking the highest point away from the rest of the world's...sight.

Like a confused thing on a strange planet...but not frightened.
You touched me with want.
                                                       And I wanted you.
                                                                                            To know all of me.
                                             Including the bad parts.
And I wanted you to add to me, things I didn't even know yet...


The sad parts.

And a moment was a year to me. And I was wise for a second.


We left. your room. out into the night. the others around us, expressing such joyous jubilation.
And still I couldn't derive joy from their moods.
My capacity for happiness was overfull. All you.

Bring back the sight. Bring back our voices. Remember the touch.

Undying.

Our souls touched.
       The whole night long.
                Until we had to leave.
                        Because we were afraid of a supernova.
                               so we hurried back to our respective beds
                                         and that was the fastest I ever fell asleep
                                               and I know you did too. because I saw you there
In that room. In my room, in my head, in your bed, full of dreams.

Dos mil y seis. Yo fue yo...fue yo y tu. Me odio.

A man standing tall; a madman in leather shoes.
With a wave of an unseen hand, with the aid of a pen,
The thoughts and minds of a species are forged.

The beasts teach by doing. The evolved teach by writing.
Yet a word only contains the truth one assigns to it.

So where does honor reside?
Where does that unconquerable and objective
Nobility rest its tired limbs?

Is it found in the ****** of lawlessness?
Or in the temperance of our betters?

Is all certainty lost to them?
With abandoned streets and crowded fears,
The evolved, so different from the beasts,
Look nervously for that that unseen hand.
That hand aided with a pen.

And still,
Safe amid the outer rim,
The beasts look on.
And the proud and evolved accept their blindfolds.
An existence where truth and falsehood ...
Where good and evil ...
Where freedom and imprisonment ...

... Are all just words written by an unseen hand.

Her body sleeps beside me
The gentle nape of her neck
The graceful turn of her ear
The beauty of her eye lids.

Her body sleeps beside me
Moon-lit Ansel Adams landscapes
Gently rolling hills and valleys
Covered with comforters.

Her body sleeps beside me
And as she lightly breathes
Her perfume breath fills my lungs
And invites me to leave my body also.

As I hold her naked form in mine
The cold stays away for one more night
And my heart fills with the deepest of content
We no longer dream of what might have been.

The secret things
For no one but me
Kept always guarded
Only I have the key

I'll let you see them
But only in part.
I'll watch you closely
As you're touching my heart.

But as soon as you begin
To like what you see
The lock goes back on
So I can be free.

That may sound crazy
But I wait for the day
When my secret things
Will be given away.

We care for her, brushing her tangled locks, soothing her calloused feet.
And yet, an empty gaze never falters, never flinches.
She remains a stone that never cracks.
To see our deeds firsthand is to peer into a void none could bear to imagine.

We moisten her lips with raindrops. We flex her bones with thunder.
A palm to her chest reveals a faint heartbeat. But what can we do?

There are things a soul cannot unsee.
Things forever etched across the mind's lucid eye.
The cries of ghosts and the laughter of someone else,
As there will always be another.
Another to smile when we frown. Another to rejoice when we fall.
A balance is maintained, and we all struggle for release.
If only her eyes could see that.

She swallows once, quenching her throat with dew from a leaf.
At last, a tear forms as she accepts Fate's design.
The chair fades away, and the canopy is pulled taut.
... Those pinholes twinkle unusual.
We each take a hand, and her eyes gleam with life.

"Follow us, sister. These stars shine for you."

The shove,
The insult,
The push to the door...

Backing up, shocked, disbelief...

Clinging I am to the door frame.
Fighting I am to stay.

I am told that I must go... I am unwelcome.
I have no value. I am unneeded.

I fight, despite...
I cling to stay...
I don't want to go out into a world that I don't understand
One where I won't know where I stand... on sand...

But I am just adding my own injury to insult.
Life has changed and as I cling onto the door frame of the past,
I am tearing off my fingers... I am crippling my arms that are unneeded.

And so...

I let go...

and down I flow...

crashing down the stairs... bouncing towards the street...
arms flailing...

uncontrolled and bruising...

smashing my head against steps and hand-rails.

I finally come to rest
broken
lost
alone

and then I open my eyes and look past the blood trickling down from my nose or mouth or ear.... or all...

and I see something...

There... under the stair... always unseen until now.
There... under the stair... ignored all of these years on my trudge up to the door to the house where I lived... unwanted...

There... under the stair... a bag of gems. Sapphires... Rubies... Diamonds... riches never seen before.
Never appreciated.

I limp away... a lucky man.

In the morn I often awaken,
To a smell not easily mistaken.
Aroma, not of toast,
Or of fine coffee roast.
Her fragrance, much better than bacon.

There once was a woman from Oceanside,
Who took me to Heaven,
     though I never died.
Like an angel she sings,
     though I've never seen wings.
In all the times I've examined her backside.

My woman has good looks that amaze,
Nutmeg eyes into which I do gaze.
     But it's not what I see,
     That's distracting to me.
Her perfume, it's the scent; donut glaze.