Archive for February 27th, 2011
That night, there were two. My heart
flattened through chains of anxiety,
from the dangers of the depression,
praying, asking God to bring peace,
and there beside two empty bottles,
a pepper sprinkled over my moldy
mind, making my soul cough in orgasm,
feeling her hands, so perfectly
with a tempo that makes my spirit
crawl across the ceiling, flailing arms
and feeling the second with tanning
edges to the deepest brown loving eyes
and smelling the leather jacket she used
to tell me that she would take me,
control me for my own good and watch me
fly over the detritus of a poisoned city
that long ago forgot the powers of love
that had blown me to joyous
explosions of heart that melds
with the world and rides
down the stream into an
unending blast of fur.
My God Rock has searing powers.
Smooth like rounded glass in right pocket,
thumb and index finger manipulate it.
Erosion is my term.
I use it so often, maybe it wears,
But I’m told I polish it.
It fills my heart with stillness,
floods me with compassion,
stifles me into silence,
allowing me to care with love.
If I touch the rock before I speak,
the anger flows down the street,
and my mouth releases no poison.
a peace so full,
I wish I could hold it forever.
I squeeze and kiss my Golden Retriever,
smearing my nose on her cold, wet nose,
and then croon “MMMMMM” forever
into her cheek, like she’s human,
like it’s been years for both of us,
shifting left to right foot/paw, almost rollicking,
wagging our tails, and she does not object.
She smiles sparsely but bravely.
She understands this,
this is how I am.