In a dream a spider swallows a snake and
smiles
like  a
giant yellow sunflower being  kissed   by
                                                                ­ bees
                                                            ­     who
dance  wildly  with the  wind  as  it  turns
white
with
anticipation.   The  snake  charmer   plays
                                                           ­         his
                                                    ­              tune.
The  spider  dances,  rising up,  stretching,
elongating.
Her  legs
disappear, drawing   into  her  body where
                                                           ­         they
                                                   ­                 turn
into a flickering tongue that protrudes from
her
lips.
She wriggles in her dance; her tongue waves
                                                           ­         in the
                                                             ­       air to
the melody, begins  to sing a  sultry,  hissing
song.
Then
the charmer's flute begins to move, undulating
                                                      ­                  to her
                                                             ­           song's
cadence.   And the charmer is himself charmed.
He
sits
in a trance as his snake-flute wraps itself around
                                                          ­                    him
                                         ­                                     and
the  spider  looking  li­ke a  snake swallows them
both.

waking up to you curled up on my side
your shoulders welcoming my tender touches on your skin
the dip in your neck where I can leave my kisses
hips where for my arms to circle around
hair still smothered in the fragrance of last night's shampoo
nuzzling into you, I'm welcomed by a mixture of beads of sweat and warmth
you shuffle in your position, and turn to face me
eyes opened only halfway, still recovering from a dreamlike trance
you dare open your mouth to utter a word, but I stop you halfway with a gentle kiss
pulling away, your lips are curved into a tiny smile
and with the raspiest voice you can gather, you greet me "Good morning"
and indeed, that was all I needed to know I had a good day ahead of me

you hold yourself in this sort of trance,
eyes expressive but body no stance,
a fascinating event to see:
how your mind wanders valleys
but your body never leaves.

Fear her if she gazes toward you.
She will steal your heart,
and leave you
howling at the moon.

I might have left it too late,
too late to notice that
you occupy my heart and
without you, it'd be empty,
devoid of love,
but distancing myself from you
sounds like drowning myself
in blacker shades of blue.

And you're still living,
and you're still breathing,
and this don't sound
like the me I knew,
but then again, maybe
the me from nowadays is new,
the me from today and yesterday
will be dying tomorrow day,
but tomorrow day,
will you still hold me tight?

Oh the fear of being alone
plagues my head,
the fear of losing you
has become my shadow,
following me everywhere,
even into the dark
where shade is not
meant to be found,
my bedroom light feels like
the light of a thousand suns,
it burns my face.

God, how could i fall in so deep?
God, I cannot even speak,
God, I wish for eternal sleep,
what I seek keeps escaping me
in such cruel ways,

Baby I'm in a trance,
and my feet know
only your dance;
Please wait patiently for me
to snap out of it.

The calm wind,
strokes the ****.
The world drives,
the primes and hives,
of mad and trance.

The numb toes,
mounted moles.
The world drives,
the time and halves,
of mad and trance.

The chaos one,
does not know.
The world drives,
the wars and tyranny,
of mad and trance.

The feel of alive,
a touch of humanity.
The world drives,
justice of the immortals,
of mad and trance.

Peasants and pennies,
the drop of dime.
The world drives,
waters and commotions,
of mad and trance.

The fire in the alleyway,
burns the broomstick.
The world drives,
the dead and sad witches,
of mad and trance.

The bohemian ode,
nympomanics and satyriasis,
The world drives,
the desires and passions,
of mad and trance.

The sainted troops,
stalks, mocks, traps.
The world drives,
the obedience of lies,
in the mad and trance.