You find yourself in a place where

everything Echoes.

In soundless, endless hallways

and vacant rooms

furnished by their four corners.

Rooms where you can finger the pages of a book

and hear the words

being whispered.

 -

You find yourself in a vacuum.

Pyrex jar of nothing.

Occupied by your aura

and yours alone.

By chance the doors don’t open

and break the solitude by corrupting silence.

Thin ice cracked

though still in tact.

 -

You find yourself among a sound

captive in the purring

issued by fluorescent lamps.

A sound that drains

ink from your tongue and your pen

despite continuing attempts to carve your words

into the page.

Please, just let go.

 -

You find yourself in the presence

of a spirit that knows

the mosaic of your skin.

It shares the stories

inked by your capillaries.

You have no choice but to trap the words with your pen.

Lo’ and behold

I Fantasize about you

Finding fascination in my skin

And

Fingering my nerves like guitar strings

Plucking and Sucking

And fucking me like my skin is made of silk

And kissing me like my lips are ripe black cherries.

Let my mind of its leash

To crash through the wooded undergrowth

Chasing sparrows up trees

Feeling seventeen and green

And fresh and bare

And naked and naive

And seventeen and green

-

Buying cigarettes to the sound

Of cawing crows

Who can't whistle

And wolves who can

-

Aching for adjacence

Walking barefoot on the beach

Flirting with the lure of loneliness

Looking straight ahead

-

Instead of trying the eyes

Of the mismatched and mislead

let me be your happy place

whisper secrets with my breath

engrave your insecurities in my soul

let me hold for you your troubles