Ill act as though these keystrokes are blades
Carving words upon your screen,
My fingers slash open, dancing along the cracks-
But blood betrays, as my words will.
It won’t shed.
Words full of taste, taste full of smell,
Smell full of touch, and touch full of memory,
That won’t spill for you.
You can’t read between their lines
Can’t remember their colour,
Can’t sense their magnetized need,
When all you see is drips of pooling nothing,
Mingling on an etched glass.
We were like two suns,
Fighting for the same heaven.
Two titans, diminishing each other-
As though the Dawn could set its rage against the Dusk.
Each questing to illumine The Moon,
As she climbs ephemeral twilight.
If this Sun had hands,
He’d reach and run a finger along
her sweeping curves;
Caressing each mound with a familiar touch,
She’d light up for him like a lantern
Hanging in the sky.
And if she glowed for another sun,
He would burn hotter still,
Blazing for her,
Consumed in a devouring inferno.
Becoming one with a blacked sky.
There, to be the night for her,
There, that she might shine in her silvery glow,
There, to be her shade as she reveals her face in moments.
There, to wander with her along the evening’s shore.
For all men look to her,
And she is where all stars end.
All energy is borrowed.
And knowing Your thirst, I
Place A heavy glass into your outstretched hand, and un-stoppered,
Pour Myself out for you as a drink.
Whiskey of course. Neat.
Difficult to describe. Complex with notes of strength. And doubt.
A dram for your palette?
O, how I hope!
I would have You drain Me, now.
Drink Me in one draught from Your Lips-
With one gasp from Your Eyes.
And My energy betwixt Your greater, unfolding in you and expanding – would fill you.
Eyes closed. Drops savored on red lips, slowly, You breathe Me out. A vapor floating in the dark,
Reborn to ride high on the night breeze alongside, as Your Soul wheels in the air, silent. Magnificent.