Black Cab Confessions

This naked transcendence of beauty You shine in the moonlight as if it burns you As I refuse to believe that you’re just a mirage An hallucination, delivered to me by endless, listless desire.

Prince on the radio sang to me with his eyes. The mark on my hand was the sign of evil. I could not think straight for the love of me. I refused to speak until you heard me.

Once I melted into a street car and Became the road, each million tires screaming Across my back as I reveled in the pain As I had never felt so alive, so asphalt pure.

Until you careened haphazardly into my life like a meteor Cast anxiously (hopefully) through the empty cosmos You didn’t land, however, all you had ever wanted was To explode across the sky like the sun in her last days

And I, a lover of the moon from the start, awed at you The light you made, cascading across the sky, Undid the sadness in my heart, in my eyes, on my hand And the world was bright again.

But your naked transcendence of this beauty, The stars themselves did not outshine you, And yet you darkened, you eroded into the bed and I clawed at your image in vain hope to make you real.

This will be my epic of discontent My war of attrition, my Roman conquest, A siege that lays waste to what controls me. An ambush to surpass the atom bomb. Once the arms arrive, Arrayed and ordered; Once the munitions are at my door, Braided and chorded I will make a stand, in front of all, for all. For if they will stand, they will fight And they will die, by my hand, Because of what they are.

Which side you’re on will not save you. This is a war of extermination This is a war of ideologies A fight between ideas paid for in blood My comrades and I will spare no thing Goods and services will not survive We will fight the money in which we are paid. We will wound the bread of which we eat.

Each battle wages in our wallets Each trench is dug into our magnetic-strip- Credit-card-debt identities Each dollar a bullet, each coin a bomb (Planted at the point of exchange, Blown away in ticker-tape) Embedded in each transaction is The declaration of war, Each casualty a number on the stock board

I am raptured by the warmth of our bodies Comforted by the idea of Otherness, And yet I’ve never been so afraid I fear the out-of-synch beating of our hearts I fear sleeping alone again.

Your tiny frame pressed against my own small heart You breathe easy, for the first time in a long while And yet your heart beats faster than ever As mine connects with your spine, its beat drumming Drumming into your nerves and we feel alive.

You’re afraid that I won’t love you in the morning Though that couldn’t be further from the truth I will awake with you beside me and rejoice Rejoice that you could calm yourself around me, And you could sleep at all despite the storm In your head, in my head.

Tonight the rum falls on empty stomachs, Tonight we dance, basking in the moonlight Though we never stray farther than the lawn It being neither yours nor mine, But we sing to the stars as if we ruled this planet.

With the sun gone, we can finally breathe Steady rhythms of desire and terror (We fear being alone; we fear the cold) Steady heat from under the covers, We dream of each other, we dream of love.

The ice melts around me and I realize That there are suns in your eyes The moths that are my own drift inward to burn away Comforted by your crimson gaze, and yet you burn You burn for the light in my soul You melt at the mention of eternity.

And this, my malicious Disorder-- My reptilian brain shrouded in comfortable Scars like bloodstained bedsheets-- This is true freedom.

The truth about freedom is that it is, Without doubt, terrifying. Anything is possible, which means, to you, Any bad thing is possible, but not tonight.

Freedom means absolutely anything can happen The emotion of it doesn’t matter, so long as it’s there; The joys and agonies of Now are fleeting, as are you And I will mourn your demise like the destruction of smallpox.

You are a sick bastardization of my sorrow You take my failures and sharpen their edges; You swarm my mind like malignant wasps, incessantly Whispering ‘you could die right now’; all night, all day.

Old ways of thinking, old pain and regret Wither away under the honest sunlight-- And I am the honest sunlight, make no mistake-- I am your antithesis.  I am your terror.

I am your attrition, the siege of truth that never ceases, I batter the walls of my own skull in blind rage until You whisper between my ears no more, You will fall to your knees and beg for your life.

I am the razor at your throat (at our throat)-- Sharpened on our concave, hollowed skull-- You will not conquer me.  You will die a quick death I owe you that much mercy, (you are me, after all).