When we met I had passion aplenty
But little experience
My heart knew only the tepid depths of emotion
Wanting desperately to feel the jagged edges all the way down
To know what the space around your tired eyes knows
And to be able to soothe it away with practiced efficiency
The wintery dry call of a Russian desert summer
Lingers in your fingertips
Painting softly, brushing cosmic mysteries in to the shining voice of my soul
Our moonshine syllables weaving in and out of a violent love affair
The aftermath cutting off cold parts of you that would shut down
Into migrating islands of solitude and sand castle suicides
You draw points and theories, advanced,alien intellect
Looking over and around what was always solid, concrete
Embedded into the barnacled underbelly of black sheet melodies
I miss the reflection of heat in your dark corners
Tracing lightly over stitch and bone dreams
I could never get close enough to calm my racing heart
You never asked me to stay
So I never did...leave my body...but I was around
Breathing in your incense and glittering morgue scent
Closing my eyes to savor
Relishing what's its like inside all of your empty spaces