The shades are drawn, lights off
The granitic waters are still and deep
the first breath is drawn, relents
gathering from unfathomable depths only to break again, contentment,
the first sigh
He gathers and beckons suspended dust particles
And far away,
the first innocent lapping of a wave
In my exhale, I gently push them away
She is ready to begin
On land they begin to stir too
everywhere with hesitation, even agitation
the flowers uncontrollably give way to sudden bloom.
the regret of blooming too soon
a pristine bare arm falling over the side of the bed.
everything sighing, aching, mourning
Sudden grip of the deadnight questions
the last aborted ghost
strange beauty of barrenness
desire to bloom, desperate to believe
The blackbirds with their beady eyes begin to unruffle their rough plumes.
Conversing quietly with each other, they flick their eyelids in distrust; toss their heads in yarak
he couldn’t love you, who could love you?
Reason in her dark-honeyed voice coos, reassuring them, pets their hard angular feathers
but even she is skeptical
Now the shy flowers are silently unfurling, still careful.
is now the right time? do I look okay?
Are you sure he’s coming?
the blackbirds and flowers lament, with poor blank melodies, plaintive in despair
the slumbering birds of paradise awaken
slowly arch their long necks and shake their tresses
The blackbirds scurry, nonchalance a mask on their faces
I carefully walk my fingers on the heat radiating from your skin.
how much I want to wake you!
caught! lovingly exasperated, held, and he abandons for dreams
serving as diversion for the
The waves now worried, rush up on their haunches only to dissolve as quickly as they started.
Frothy white remnants cling like desperate limbs to the shore.
The waves asking resounding pleading demanding…won’t he come?
And the same thing is happening in the city too…
The city is gray concrete
the distant mewling of a lonely being,
faint echo and hollow imprints of a phantom pair of heels
and a light gold haze starts to perfume the sky
And the whole city is anticipation! Frenzied anticipation! Waiting for what is to come.
In between deafening roars and hushed in-betweens of their infinite repetition, suddenly, there! There it is!! The first sighting of that curious pale yellow substance
In our dusty apartment, consciousness aroused
But will it grow? Will he yet come?
The waves now grow obstinate. Almost cruel.
The world waits defiantly and proudly, beating wildly…now believing without question.
And now the world is growing richer.
Blacker, deeper, and oh yes, sweeter… odd things are taking shape, becoming solid… gaining purpose.
ah! we cry! the ascension! the waves are tumbling, wild ecstatic frolic in their milk and honey foam.
and in our repose, the hollows of our cheeks are being filled with rivets, streams of sun. the dips and arcs in our bodies scooping, collecting, greedily possessing the light wending its way insidiously through the shades, prying its way into the room.
and the whole room is gold enchantment and dizzying gilded atom orbs.
The light is seeping, trickling, finding it’s way into every corner, running towards every once-darkness and illuminating truth, wild joyful and free. This precise moment of alighting this torch divined. And all those men gasping under this weight, muscles rippling under the enormous burden of this sun and everywhere the world is singing in strange high pitches and primitive hoarse groans. all the rest of the flowers burst open now crying at last! at last! we’ve been storing this beauty, this treasure all night for you! and the people gazing dreamily out of their windows, walking triumphantly in their cities…and us too, in our bed, breathless, we chant at last! Yes, at last!
As the world completes another revolution, as we complete our revolutions