Scriptor Press - The ElectroLounge

52
Believe everything: smile, sigh. A myth
beyond this moment, its maybe, its
volition. Accelerating, again, with greener
truth of trees & constellations. These words
suddenly erupt, again, in music, & somewhere I explode.
***
x. Agape
Dream moves us persistent within the stiff ground,
now resembling play, now wreckage, now
glistening night. Music shimmers greater
between us, we sum to other than one or
two. Now past sleep, emptied of bed, what
remains a leaving shaped by hazel eyes,
a thrilling twist of eros & agape, a rhythm
chanting hope’s choiceless spell.
Eros: delight’s rootless bells conjure your
voice, the palm-shaped softness of your
hands among mine, our kiss imploding
us into something greater than one or two,
your sigh blood-badging my deepest recoils
into solitude’s fears.
Dream moves persistent, through fake
daylight calm, through night’s years
of skyless joy.
Agape: loving souls ringing in the barrel of
a half dead world, what kindness means
when everyone at last is drowning. Your absence
sometimes twinkles, a message by wish &
flash, my lost nights rise up with a cry,
spit your name out, choiceless, tender.
Dream betimes bears a rank beast, call it
despair, nosing about my heart. Day’s silence
knows no comfort, calls night a dead vine twisting nearer.
The Cenacle / 54 / April 2005