The nightmare has awoken,
The demons are back.
Where am I headed?
I'm on the wrong track.

Darkness looms over me,
Threatening to break me again.
I have to fight it.
I can't let it win.

The demons they are strong,
What can I do now?
I don't know how I can win,
I feel like I'm drowning.

Take a deep breath,
Take back control.
Find the fight within you,
Don't let it go.

Wipe away your tears,
Hide away your fears,
Don't let the darkness take you.
Hold on to the light,

Stand up tall and proud
Smile to yourself and say
You didn't beat me this time,
I live to fight another day.

We have ridden the waves of discovery to this place where love has found a home in the natural existence of our subconscious selves, we react to each other without intention, we offer freely to each other the fruit of our desires and suffer the consequences of a current interrupted and diverted. We talk as though there is no clock, an hour could be three, a day could be a week, a lifetime together could easily be eternity with no desire to look back. We have been blessed/cursed with a standard by which to judge the future, we have danced with the music of our souls and stayed in step with the common heartbeat therein.
We have found love in a place where few have good fortune to pass, without our consent, inspite of ego, pride, cunning, and fear, to this plateau we have come and upon this plateau our love will stay to await the return of the hearts responsible for its arrival.
This love, which chooses to live and breathe on its own, has no need of nurture or direction, for it knows it’s home is home where it stays, and will stay in the cloud of comfort it has created regardless of time’s passage.

I’d fling the sun far into your cut corner
and shove moonlight broadly onto your toenails
you would want for so little
as the oceans carry you to shores of your water borne desire

wicked is the world stream when high hopes pegged precarious
onto chalky lines that shift like changing clouds
and lend its kind illusory touch under the lee

end dashed like outcast mirrors whose use
is rod cracked like inside the core of acrid earth
where awaits hot lava in secret fissures to melt all ropes
to bridge so narrow a wing's gapped fluke

jerking maestroms circle overhead
inducing desultory plunge
finger pointing, egg-beating, giddy whirly whirl

a day will come as yet unknown
when soul rags are panel worked and hylic sheathed
when latticed treats, as American as apple pie
will fill that tabled sky decked with cirrus tablecloth

averted seeker squint feels that cat-eyed wonder
flattened insect on a troubled screen with translucent beauty wings
lets in a dry smile ***** of real life dust in heretical relief

rupture
        ventilation
bolt that flippin' door – shut out the ****** world – make fast the curtain sides
broach the unslotted gap you know is yours and proclaim it wide: open sesame!
gouge your way into me - till I’m fully plugged with light
caulk me with your fingers till my spine near cracks
spike my heart with currents from the milk rush of you
pierce my thigh strips and whip the whetted words out me
tap into the slinky slices of my pervious skylit want
there will be no occlusion as arches meet under shuddered pleats

no, I have precious little time or heart to draw cute sunshine panels onto your retracted sleeve
in that stead, I can really be just plain me
who’d  eagerly wrench pale-blue patches from the sky cloth
and steal in zest moonbeams from lovers’ eyes
and heartily fling the sun your way and rob its life-giving warmth
and gladly rip up torn foliage from its homes
along with pert petals from fickle floral parties

if only these were things you’d want
yet, well I know whatever be the pains
there waits little gain
feral feline will trouble little more
heart swing derision flies poor as sad plighted answer rings on

I am left alone to decay.
Everything turns back to dust.

-M.H.-