Mycelium threads have bound us together
As though a spider web covered in dew
And, viscous mucous, from insufflated narcotics
It is backlit with the sunrise that never seems to come
Our affair is the eternal blue-hour
In our dank underworld where I take you as Persephone
and we will rule the darkness; king and queen.
at least,
how it lives,
in my imagination.
I remember your loving face when we met,
So many years ago when I was still asleep
In the sedation of affluence
when I disposed of blondes like mismatched parts to my incredible machine
just like my cats;
… as monuments to myself
we were so young then,
naïve, the dance we held was so energetic & out of focus
became experienced
powerful in our spheres
saw that power in one another;
mighty are those who have powerful dreams
I dream of you often, and what your hair smells like
When we are not varnished in chemical-rich sweat
In your eye still harnesses that look-
The one that
casts a pink ribbon of silence over my lips
returned, in kind, with the voltage of my being
though I share it with all; I give it to no others,
and you know that.
I imagined our world together and our numerous adventures.
How I will never grow tired of your being.
I imagined the day When you realized your amazing effect upon me.
How silly that moment of silence would be and
yet so decadent. And yet so fictitious all the same.
As we got up from hotel rooms, cracked-out, brainpudding
dragging oily smoke into those LA hotel mornings
made of the stuff that killed Hollywood
and raped Beverly Hills, and ended the lives of more people than either of us even
want to think about
over the long intoxicated summers, when I never thought to say the words-
as the rising sun turned us back into our true forms.
Black sky fading to a treacherous blue that
brought with it all the responsibilities of the world.
Pushed us away from one another for so many years, as it
slipped away for another several months. To slip away again and again…
And again.
As I did.
What we have is the eternal sunrise
Where an ambiguous crescent slips through the sky and never fades or grows
Where battle hardened steel is never too glorious for a thin coat of oil.
The carnal embrace of the psychological effect
More than anything we have the dance-
that negates all others
and feeds all human hearts
where we rule the underworld,
one chaos-laden night after another
one night at a time.
Though I’ll have you know; because I will say the words:
I love you more than anything.
I loved you then as I love you now
As I do every-single-time I see you
And it is this twisted fantasy that I will ever
be able to tell you this
this lie it what keeps me anchored to your world
and I live for it,
I live for that electronic tryst
When the flowers of our humanity open
In the bass-rich forest of the moonlight.
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