Base Sounds

it is one of those no and yes situations
twisting and turning
the universe
into a slow-motion-action-sequence
the bullets fire in time to the humming
base sounds,
like thread, weaving
a mystical, musical pattern
from the weight of my thighs
to the tips of my breasts

i am abruptly overcome
with pulsations and palpitations
from the music, and yes,
from your touch

any love influence is,
strictly speaking,
under the influence
of potentially harmful drugs

what if i DAREd you to kiss me...

but we all know drugs wreak havoc
on your organs and nervous system
which are generally too nervous for me
and yet i am anxious without you

i am not the first to say
love (and passion and sex) intoxicates
nor the first to say
it prevents blood from reaching my brain
your scent clouds my mind and i cannot
breathe the air, i can
not prevent the firing of neurons
nor the electric, magnetic, tectonic reaction
that occurs when our flesh meets
and lingering, meets again

keep in mind, it is fact that turns me on
no romantic prose can get under my skin
the way cold hard logic
makes me wet

and yet,
leaving you is like parting the sea...

ODE to W.W.

HARK, it is the slow poison,

it is the madness that calls me from slumber, awaking

my memories in sore places;

as a bruise

throbbing from gentle exploration, awaiting

a balm - healing waters for the troubled

spirits. in the night

faltering, when i stumbled

upon fragments of my self, whispering.

in the darkness they conspire against me;

they will hear no reason...

my eyes fluttering secrets:

the sight of your raw frame exposed by artful blinking.

my ears ringing with sound:

your voice in husky, dulcet tones echoing down

corridors, chasing my hurried footsteps.

do you follow?

do you follow me home?

my heart beat drumming, bang!

bang, banging in my chest like a volatile knocking,

and i can feel my ribs breaking

while my lips, the traitors, recall your specter...

you have awoken me for the last time;

this illness is waning. as the moon is waxing,

the night shall soon be over -

the earth bent upon welcoming

blessed daylight, by which the sun comes

shining, like a blessing.

i have grown weary of suffering and haunting,

sleepless nights and starting

when a pin drops.

i will shut up my doors,

breathing deep - the tremulous air.

Persephone

i was two breaths too late when you came.

suddenly, the earth was not beneath me,

my fingers were not crossed and the sky faded

from blue to black. helios watched silently

as you brought me to an open grave.

i could not think, not breathe, not even to

scream and i was trapped, sinking

on my knees, no hope of escape

only suffocation, begging for release.

yet, violently, you held me.

i was not made for sudden movements,

my eyes go wide like a deer and i am

fragile in the darkness, although i love the scent

of earth, the deep ageless.

my hands stained green - i was made

for growing beautiful things, but here,

away from light, the breeze, in this bat cave

full of old souls that will never pass on, just

remain, endlessly circling a forgotten prey:

wounded hearts that no longer recall what it is

to breathe.

here, where you've trapped me.

after my pupils dilated and i could see

your face above mine, perfection in its

severity: thin lips pursed in anxiety,

eyes like ice that burn my soul, just as

your hands leave smoldering lines across

my flushed skin. in your arms i am frost

bitten by your passion; i am ensconced

within your dark flames.

your eyes, two hollow bowls: an offering

full of remorse. you howl to the gods.

it was a slow dance between us, static

electricity echoed in the tension between

your heavy hands and my still heavier heart.

unclear whether you cast your net first, or i

threw my tangled web of diadems, sparkling,

luminescent in the shadows of hellfire, of home.

whisperings in my ear like the winter mist,

oh beautiful, oh hallowed, oh blessed, best

loved of my soul.

you laid a new name at my feet.

did you pick me because you could see

the hidden shard of glass trapped beneath

my aching breast? or was it because i know

what it is to be alone?

i am only skin and bone:

bleeding flesh, quickening blood,

a racing heart, an empty womb.

but it seems that i have known you forever.

once, before the die was cast, before

each god took up his dutiful throne,

did you dream of daylight?

i dreamed of you.

so i took the seeds from your palm, drinking

my fate, let it seep into my blood. i said

goodbye to the sun.

now what is left? no questions. only

what you feel, and i feel.

here, where you've trapped me.

Fragile Bones

my broken wrists, two slit

cracks in the pavement,

betray the worst kind of love.

you were never meant to see

my watery, spherical eyes -

two globes out of the darkness.

i was without form,

before you held me.

molding me to your chest

when you exhaled light,

i breathed for the first time.

betrayals in the garden,

like breaking mirrors in the dark,

cause seven years bad luck.

never meant, i never meant

to live a lie or to deceive.

your angels' wings are strong enough

to beat out a rhythm towards heaven,

while my fragile bones break.

carrying my soul and your heart

is one love too many.

now i walk in the garden alone.

i would gladly fade, devoured

by the sun that would consume me.

but you refuse the sacrifice.

holding steadfastly on, just wait -

gravity is a shameless thief.