Never been so attracted
to one being.
Wildly attracted
to traits of many,
always fleeting.
So many rolled
into one man
leaves me speechless,
intrigued and fiending.
He mirrors my lunacy,
and my fiery independence,
our duality.
Water bearers
pour streams
adjoined from
the heavens, unencumbered.
After years of finding
the streams gravitating
into one,
we ditch a gourd.
Our fingers intertwined
under the neck
and the base of
the remaining one.
Our eyes mingle mysteriously
each morning,
and when they find stars
they get to pouring.

I lay atop the grass with Cecily,
taking in the sun anew.
He calls down,
Come see what I've done now,
come see this new tattoo!
   Eh.
I'm rather proud!  
   Not now cuz, I'm busy.
Oh come now, it's profound!
A portrait of Edgar Allen Poe!
   Speaking of poets,
   I'm quite in the middle
   of an epic something...
   DO YOU MIND?!  
It's realllllly good though!  
   Oh, fine.
I plod my *** up the stairs
in the heat and reach the balcony.
I'm blown out of the water.
He's right, it's a masterpiece!
Edgar's soul ringing out
through skin to me!  
   Oh, wow.
   You know,
   he owns my favorite poem.
Which is that?  
   A dream within a dream.
Ah yes,
the canvas muses,
reciting a verse,
just like music.
Well isn't this canvas kindred!  
The length of his cigarette
the duration of time we quip.
Back and forth, our own prose.
He says not to kiss your ***,
but you are quite moving my soul.  
You are inspiring me,
the way you tie emotions to paper,
in utter splendor.  
Smoke break over,
to return to mechanical buzzing.
His eyes sincere,
I'd like to share,
hear more your words.
   And I yours! I descend stairs,
with Godson in towe.
Are you of this town?
   Yes, for now.
As am I, you should take my digits.
   OK!  
I'm still descending.
   Oh, right..
pulling out my phone.
    I'm a stickler for full names,
   what are you called?
   Oh, I'm Italian too!  
Well, I'm Sicilian, it's quite a difference.
   Oh is it now?
******* elitist.
Handsome though.
We'll see where this goes...

When we met,
you made my heart wet.
Like morning dew of hope,
from Heaven, chemistry crept,
with hope and regret
of everything you may
and may not get.
Your faculties tasted me
in anticipation...
How my eyes' light
might look in your bed,
how my words ringing
swam in your head.
You perked me up like sweet grass,
onto my taste buds you bled.
Our souls danced
and sang in embrace.
When we parted they said,
Well if that's that,
mission accomplished.
Whether covert or conscious,
whether or not
she even calls him,
we have loved once again.
Less a natural reaction,
more an inexplicable combustion.
From that day on it was destined,
from admiration swapped and accepted,
We could never return
to who we'd been.

Remember when I told you that you don't scare me?

....              Growing up,
I                     thought I was the hero in our family. You never whipped out hate                 in the form of a belt; You never left a mark. But it didn't hurt your                case any less; It didn't hurt us any less. I offered my bruised
face                for you to vent your rage on; I took hard words and hard shoves
so...            the rest of them didn't have to. (You had too many kids by the way.)


"Go              for broke" doesn't apply when it comes to kids. With Mom
away"          you never had a chance, and I get that, but seven punching bags?
"Stop              at two in the next life, don't go for seven. You couldn't handle
it."                  You didn't deserve us, I don't care if you do now. Do
"You               even deserve us now? You've changed, you're stronger. You
are                 not the man you used to be, and I get that. But that man was fine
hurting          me whenever he didn't get his way, or work went bad. You left
me."                alone in the dark to rot into this hateful, bitter man I am today.

You                are a good father, now. You're raising the youngest with so much
care.              But I don't know if that's enough for me. God help me, but
I                     can't forgive you, even now. Even after all the effort I
know             you're putting in, because it's not for my sake. It's for his, and
that                isn't good enough. It's too little too late. I'd sign "I love you" but...

I just
don't
any more.

What night-bird sings across the river?
What bear of winter whispers
low and deep in the cave of its mouth?
And who is she who moves toward the many mouthed artesian,
invisible to the clouds and stars that live in her reflection?

We stand on our heads;
the world turns its duplicity to meet us as
our imagination ventures beyond the beyond,
before it rushes back to be with she who has not yet released us.
She spins her arms in all directions;
our mother, calling with the night bird says
“here children you’re safe with me”.

We walk the southern bank of the Ballone.
Before the weir we imagine the river
mirror to all the world.
Then the weir-gates reveal her power.
Broken water announces our birth
and friendship;
a turbulent opportunity to bright with stars,
to carefully wake the sleeping bear.

Beside this river
Our future is brought together,
And like her, this unseen strength
Will flow potent, low and deep
and with our mother
nurturing.


MChallis © 2015