| Last night I took off my worries
and hung them carefully
upon satin covered hangers.
I placed them in the closet for another day.
Naked, I climbed beneath blankets of poems,
and wrapped myself in their rhythm.
Letters and images nestled peacefully against my smoothest skin
and kept safe there.
Then I dreamt of you.
You slipped into my mind like a dancer
swaying to a forgotten favorite song.
One that perhaps I had loved in another life.
And you began to switch in and out of yourself
shifts in time to the pulsing beat of desire and deceit.
Like the changing colors of a traffic light.
Never did I want to stop,
but could not decide which meant go.
And even in the tranquility of dreams
my ever-patient heart refused to keep up.
I cried from frustration
and it began to snow sunlight
in heavy drops of shattering glass.
My vision obscured by this diamond rain,
of light cutting hazily
through slanted sheets of dark,
I was even more lost
to your adept translations.
Yet, through my tears, I could not help
but to laugh
and enjoy the momentary madness and surely passing brilliance.
Because this is how I live my life.
Crying and laughing.
Twirling in a rainstorm of sunbeams.
Feeling what is given to me to feel.
My moonlight thoughts are the children
of my waiting, waking, dreams.
One from the other,
and growing more independent
in the shadows of time and stars.
I am torn apart by my casual love affair
with my own emotions, and perhaps,
but only perhaps, yours.
Flicking back and forth.
Like a candle between two slightly open,
but mostly closed, windows.
My heart is tired of all these adaptations, these tragic transitions.
It is inherent to passion
and confusing midnight wants.
Wants that my small amount of logic keeps.
Keeps from becoming the needs
that they attempt to be.
But I need fuel for this fire,
and a single source of wind.
This morning I awoke
with these images on my tongue.
Not so unlike the taste of your wishful kiss.
I stayed,
drowsy,
for an eternal minute
beneath those poems of my mind, and heart.
Then I rose,
plucked a piece of broken late-night sunshine from my hair
and robed myself in the notes
of that otherworldly song
that you hummed to me.
Leaving my worries on satin hangers
for yet another day. |
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