You said that You wish you had time to sit down And write me.
I circle among the wooden nymphs Infiltrate fire on ice And mend golden beams with A little solitude And an everlasting Humble sadness.
I don't know that I can adapt anymore.
Mirroring lampshades, the wallpaper too I drift among the water here Submerging myself into the lake When the water tastes just right Or not great.
I quantify and qualify And echo in and out of chambers As you listen and reach for everything All while wanting everything But not all of it.
I wasn't supposed to mean anything A choir of banshees sing And in my writing to you I don't know that I have anything new to say.
Will you think of the way people circled around me on the dance floor Or how an all consuming radiance and freedom Releases from the room when I enter it?
I'm still here while you go Chipping and chopping away With my golden axe in hand The belle of the ball.
I can still taste The comforting way I've come to find your hands down my lips, down my throat Down the grip Of my heart that you tighten and sometimes Toy with.
You flutter through like a winged creature Through your own plights, your own jealousy Finally admitting to me As we both swirl in moments of turmoil.
You described a feeling in your chest.
I've always been someone who can take on a lot of pain I've always been someone who Finds some kind of weird ****** up joy In feeling so completely A *******, a pained artist And so here, in the terrace Where it's you and it's me But not so completely I can paint strokes As my arm bleeds down the canvas Because a part of me Can somehow stand it.
I don't know what will happen here I wish I could write more joyously All I know to do Is to set you free