and so... There ! Amid all allurement and soft machines;
the spoiled brat of Venus, knicking the doors and kicking the canned laughter
to the foot of a mountain of existential speculation. Amid the cherry bombs and the Persian rugs; so many menageries of tinfoil origami swans.
so very little Time.

so little rosemary wine in the pickle jars. So few wolves
in the porcupine dens  - and only a swarm of hornets
in your nightclothes, this
morning.
and nothing but nettles
in your tea.

well, nettles and golems and orange hope.

I remember the hope you once had
When you knew happiness as a lad
But the clock ticking
The attacks kept knicking
Away at your heart once glad

Something shattered the person you were
Something initiated your life into blur
I can not know
How deep the sorrow
That your heart seems to lure

Where O light did you go?
Why this baggage must I tow?
To help you find
Your own self and mind
That your heart has long let go.

We, hand in hand, must not part
The binding of self is an art
You are me
The one who can't see
How lost, how desperate, our heart

my book was moved aside
he glared
why do you read
why bother
he nearly shouted
my ears rang
as i answered
to escape
the simple words
dripped from my chapped lips
like a summer rain
ending a month long
drought
to escape?
his voice pressed against my ears
probing my mind
with its sharp blade
of doubt and contempt
i cleared my throat
and adjusted myself
to explain
yes sir
to escape
my voice as soft as the hum
of my clothes whipping
twisting
and dancing
in a sudsy
technicolor ballet
to escape from
the mediocre soap opera
my life has become
from maybe maybe not
pregnancies
to mental family
members
from the woman that glares
and analyzes me in the mirror
every morning
to the shroud of invisibilty
that cloaks me as i walk
the streets
from the cruelty of the
midless drones that run
this world
to the intelligence
that is masked and stepped on
for a higher belief
he looked at me
up and down
transfixed
or
realizing he is getting more
than he bargained for
i patted my book's
soft leather binding
and a weary smile crossed
my face
in here
i can be whomever
i want to be
in here
i can live the life
i believe i deserve
i can be a
queen of anything
lovingly doted on
by her loved royal subjects
but when the pressure becomes
too much
the next day
i can be her
lady-in-waiting
who steals
secret glances
and secret moments
with the queen's favorite
palace guard
or
i can be the evil villianess
who traps the world's
beauty within her
septer's globe
but when my heart
freezes with her
cool intensity
i can warm my soul
as the handsome hero
who tricks the greedy villianess
and releases the beauty
for the world to share
the buzzer
announces the intermission
of its ballet
as i press the start button
flashing the lights
announcing it's finale
i check my phone
no new messages
flashes on the screen
i cooly shove it
back into my pocket
and retreat to my book
once again
his razorblade eyes
cut through the bounded pages
knicking my half-closed eyelids
but your life sounds far more
interesting out here
in reality
that word wraps its
barbed wire tenticals around my soul
and begins to strangle
no
no
no
in here
i give my book
a harder tap
in here
he loves me for who i am
not who i will
hopefully be
someday
in here
i let out a soft sigh and sink back into my chair
when i say "i love you"
i believe it
a knowing smile spread
across his wrinkled face
creating a timeline
of his years spent
washing
and loving
drying
and hurting
he pats my exposed arm
and retreats to his
basket of antiques
ready to fold
of course he found
my life to be
better here
his hand is on the remote
he can change the channel
leaving me
behind the static of
the humdrum
within the glass of
agony and self-loathing
as i turn the page
the soft crinkle
resonates
against the hums
and the buzzing
and the soft murmurs
acting as my mute button