Ripples of goosebumps, the night kisses my skin goodbye with a gentle breeze as the first red beams of morning dance through the curtains.
Flesh contracts and flinches.
The feeling of falling, crashing, the tingle of horror and spinning to reconnect mind to its transient vehicle.
The black blurs to colour. Grey, red, black, navy.
Sound dances back into the atmosphere. The hypnotic rhythm of a human breath, still unconscious, vulnerable...
Sweet is the sigh, innocent. Which each breath, the layers of skin, flesh, sheets
They all dissolve.
All that remains is a beautiful blue light
It vibrates, connects with the atmosphere and begins its own unique dance within the universe.

We are one.
The ache and hot fracture through the chest considering the look in the eyes of authority.
The hypocrisy of love, of creator.
Of being consumed by a mind, a personality.
Body is secondary to the wonders, the sublime terror and beauty of the mind that is sprawled out beside me with sheets licking around the shoulders.

Hand on hand
As the hand reaches for its equal there is comfort
The cold film between reminds the body of its loneliness and the heart
of how this world works
The trained mind sees everything it wants to see

There is a field of grey flowers blooming behind this
Constantly blooming in a beautiful mourning ceremony
Each day until they wilt.

It is alive untouched by the neon signs, peroxide bottles and the paper tongues

Eyes so pure, yet so hollow
They long for warmth
Aged beyond flesh.
They shriek and cry with sorrow
Once found solace in wild blue iris'
Their innocence would whisper the promises of tomorrow
Now that tomorrow is here,
their fire goes.
Smothered, drowned, lost through a tear.
In the dark, anxiety dwells
the quickening heart widens the hell.
Consumed by black water the dark,
ethereal silk of unconsciousness comforts.
Yield, breathe, fair creature
make not a sound, not a whisper nor hark
for I no longer miss you in the dark.

Here I stand.
My mortal soul naked and imperfect
My weathered hand stained with the guilt of a human life.
I have nothing.
Nothing to my name but the worth of my words.

I offer you not the stars or the moon.
Not a passion that incurs fame,
Not stability, nor safety.

I offer you the colour and whirlwind of my soul.
In all its grotesque beauty,
In all its untamed rhythm.

Here I stand.
A vulnerable creature
A plagued creature.
I have nothing.
Nothing but the warmth of my soul.

As the light slid in
It burnt the dreaded lover
Consciousness cindered and smoked in the eyes

The last thundery beat of breath tore across the confused lips
Lips contorted and irises melted

The vibrations of the ether pushed on
The moment rolled past like a bass line
Cold rhythm of snaking steel wire
writhed through the weary spine.

The path of chaos
Igniting each tendril, each nerve ending

And the lover sighs
For none of us are safe
In the wake of what it means
To be human.

Close your eyes.
Do you hear it?
The rhythm of each atom in the universe.
Reader, do you feel that?
All you are is an echo, an echo of language, of matter and force.
There is no order no linearity only the harmony of nature and the harmony of we.

Chaos. There is a beautiful dance to it.

Do you remember the heat of the sun on your back?
Of being a small child and the breeze on your face?
Of the first time you realised that feeling, that tingle, that slightly dizzy feeling
Was not dissimilar from the gentle warmth of another humans breath on your neck in a warm embrace.