I'm roaring towards the sun,
in an aluminum bubble.

My spirit, lacks wings, to fly
but there's a spoiler,
fitted, to the silvery minivan's frame.

So, we drive down the day...
coldly harmonious,
as it glitters back,
in mild flashes.

Memory, is stagnant;
flecks of it shine, back, at me--
capsules, of captured thought,
suspended movement...

the world, itself, becomes gelatinous.

The park, where I almost--
the long-absent faces,
of growing boys, and girls,
concealing toothy monsters.
Unsung heroes, and wandering bards...

Freezing sidewalks,
slanting homes...

places I knew, so well;

they stand, still,
and appear to register
no change, and no difference.

Christ, with his pale, pinned arms,
and pain-stricken face,
gazes down, on all these sins

a placid totem,
on his marbled cross...

an overgrown snowdrop,
crying mildly,

into polluted grasses, below.

A sweet song, emits
from surrounding speakers
and it becomes tangled,
in its own chords.

It breaks, in my throat,
like tinted glass...

and suddenly,
my eyes, are full,
of flooding,
unshed tears.

Their sorrow, needles
at sore, spent cheeks.

The rain, which pinks, soft clay

is hard, and salted,
and as it beats down, onto my skin,

I can feel the sunlight working
its gentle,
tumble-dry magic,

and finessing them clean, again.

I turn my face, away
to stare out, silent,
through the unbroken window.

I'm sobbing, harder, now,
and I have no idea,
how I started...

or why,
it won't stop...

but still, the rain,
rolls down shaky gutters;
unrepentant,
and unrepressed.

The wild weeds, of the garden,
are well-fed, indeed

yet overwatered,
beneath leaky clouds,

and graying seams.

Do you know, what's it like?
To run, until the tendons,
in your legs,
crimp,
like accordion bellows,
held, in the grip,
of a vice?

...Do you know, what it's like?

When they smell the fear, from within...
which adheres, to your skin,
as it turns, to fright?

...Do you know, what it's like?

Not even seconds, to hide?
With the asbestos walls, exploding...
your lungs, go off, like a bomb,
and thrumming

But the headlights,

they just keep on coming?

...Do you know, what it's like?

But you can't stop running, oh, hell no,

Though the acid,
drips,
down the back,
of your throat.
And the panic,
sticks,
to your soul,
like Velcro...

But you try...

...Do you know, what it's like?

And do you even want,
or need, to survive it?

When your fatigue,
only gets them excited?

When the kick and blur,
of your legs,
and curves,
only registers,
as enticement?

Do you know, what it's like?

Here comes the headlights
around the bend,
again,
and it's do,
or die.

Do you think you could fight?

You can't look, at the trunk,
or you'll end up inside, it.
It's fight,
or you're ******,
but what if they... have,
a gun,
or a knife?

...Do you know...what it's like...?

...There is no element, in existence,
equal, to me,
with the force,
and polarity, of you.

Take me...take me, further in.

I will not,
I could not...ever, resist you.

My will, is hammered carbon;
yet, this contract, of the soul...
it is ironclad.
Draw me,
into the tensity,
of your unbroken field.

Does your ghost, hover
like magnetite,
at the northernmost point,
of its own compass needle?

Does your shadow, dwell
in its arrowhead shape?
Does your heart, steel,
its directional pull?

I cannot pass you by,
but to be drawn,
into the divine gravity,
of your embrace.

Sweet...so sweetly,
do you hold fast, to me.

My lips, shudder,

tremulous,
with an irrepressible urge

to glue themselves
to the nectarine sweetness,
of sunbaked flesh.

Take me...take me, further in.

Leech me, of resistance.
Break me, of my defenses.
Shatter this separation,
that pulses fiercely, between us,

and pin me, to the core, of you.
Keep me, always...
yours, alone;
yours forever...

and worlds, may end,
castles, may rubble.
Entire civilizations,
may fall, to ancient ash,

Before these lips,
could ever dream,
of leaving, you.

Silence settles in the skull
a lake undisturbed,
but the inkless pen trembles,
fearing this calm
is the last sound it will ever know.

...Open your eyes, to me.

I want to spiral, around you,
beyond the dark, infinite wall.
I want to transcend, your physical;
to lure you on, and away
into a purple field, of Freyja's daisies
with nimble, metaphysical fingers--
beckoning beyond,
the starry curtain,
of crystalline dreams.

Will you let my arms,
circle your Roman neck,
like verdant vines
and pull you further, in?

Can you feel my smile,
sun the slant,
of your beloved cheek,
and can you photosynthesize
into new life, with me
even as you re-seed, in darkness?

I want to whisper,
sweet words:
devotion, and desire
into the well, of your ear...
until they roar, and pound
with the sacred force,
of white rapids...

swollen to riptides,
in the conch shell,
of your churning mind.

I want to weave, around your flesh
and speak, a love spell
into your shifting, Lycan eyes.
An incantation, that plays,
with the blue ghost, of your flame,
and ignites, the candle of your soul,
on its breathy sighs...

...melodic tones.

There is no heart,
quite like yours.
It pulses, beneath my hand,
like drums, of war.
Gladiator...

take me, to your Colosseum.

I want to wander
the upper echelon,
of its throbbing chambers.
I want to feel you ache, for me
in your left ventricle...
soft, warm flesh,
perfectly preserved, in golden amber.

I want to gaze,
into the blinding sun,
until my eyes, tear...
closer to heaven,
than ever I've been.  

Darling, what do you see,
when you look at me?
Salvation,
or ruin?
Vikingr longships...

or Valhalla...?

I pray...that one day...
you will take my soft hand,
into the Titan strength, of yours,
and not perceive it,
as an instrument
in the ruin, and wreckage, of you.

I ardently pray, that, one day...
you'll come, to bathe
in the Baltic blue, of my eyes...

and never fear, again,
that they could drown you.











...Let me take you...home.