Not seeing you,
Is like being in exile,
Shut out from all that I love –
Everything that makes me sing out in
Sighs, and believe in brighter skies
What can I say of you that I have not said
Already? What forgotten fragment of my
Heart must I still bleed out for you to sample
And taste – words dug up from the very ground
Of my being, my core, my marrow,
Chosen in haste?
Could these words ever illuminate your heart?
Could these words ever fill you with trust?
Could these words ever make you flutter towards
Me, without your inevitably having to flutter away
I think about moving on –
But how can I move on from Heaven?
How can I recover from these third degree
Burns after being subsumed in the fire of your
Love? How can I move on from an immovable
Beauty that coronates my days with rays of
Meaning I could never have previously fathomed?
I cannot move on from you –
Only closer to you –
Like a ship sailing towards the sun,
I will keep on sailing ahead into those golden
Flames, until I perish, Icarus-like, in those
There are so many memories I would like to share –
So many crowning moments, immortalized in the
Art Gallery of my imagination. But I cannot share them.
The eyes of the world are upon me, and I cannot share them.
So, instead, I must coil myself in allegory, soliloquy,
And vague, hopeful allusions, cloaking myself in an
Obscurity that wants to tear itself open and scream:
“I AM HERE!
I AM HERE!”
But would you be able to hear me?
Would you be able to sense my intensions
Through the dense barriers of perfection
That separate you from me?
I am on the outside. But, sometimes, when we
See, we feel, we touch, we dream together, I feel
That inviolable membrane become more permeable –
And our two worlds become one, opening up a whole
Geography of imagination that could never exist without
Us both –
Don’t you want to see those landscapes with me?
Don’t you want to see what only you and I can see?
Press your third eye to mine, darling –
Feel the thrill as our thoughts mingle –
Two imaginations inseminating eachother,
Embryos flourishing into pregnant dreams
Which give birth to Heavens, to Joys –
To the redemption of all pain and loss
But, when you are gone, all of that goes away –
My bandages are torn off; my suppurating wounds
Exposed to the infectious dark –
My imagination loses its magic,
My life loses purpose,
My world sheds dimensions like falling leaves,
My heart aches – my truth grieves
What wounded and wounding truth!
Did truth know it would come to this?
Did my soul know that, in meeting you,
It would be scarred, destroyed, and enlivened,
Irreversibly, irreparably, immortally?
Of course it did.
This whole thing was a set-up from the start:
Just how far can we push Reuben? That’s what
We want to know! This bastard’s been too slow –
We need to throw this Queen of a Curveball into
His vena cava to get him back on track again!
And throw they did.
How many times have I died since I met you?
How many mental-breakdowns have I had since
I began prostrating offerings at your sacrificial
Altar? And so many more on the way!
Where will we go, darling?
Africa, India, Tibet?
I don’t care where we go.
You are my world. And I can
Travel further just through looking
In your eyes, than I could via any
Vehicle in the world –
Your love is the wings of a swift –
The agony of an albatross –
The stardust of space –
Your love is the contentment of Death
After a Life well-lived –
Your love is my universe –
It is my Weird – it is the omnipotent
Force that propels me from one day
To the next
Your love has given me the courage
To slay demons – and to love demons –
To face god – and to become god –
To dream – and to realize the dream –
Your love is the pulse that pumps me
Beatingly, through Eternity’s veins
So don’t go away –
Don’t leave me to clot –
Don’t leave me in this forgotten
Exile, the last member of a species
Most don’t even realize still exists
But I would like you to know –
I would like you to know everything
About me – to be the privileged archivist
Of my mind, classifying and categorizing
My every last paroxysm and prayer, loving
The changes and stages of strangeness even
I have yet to caress.
Please, let me in –
I don’t care how many steps I must tread –
How many bodies and lives I must shed –
I would lose all it is possible to lose if
Your love I could finally gain
If I succeed, people will write odysseys about
Us – our love will be a legendary love –
The Twelve Labours of Hercules are just the
Aperitif –I have far more painful realities
To awake, treacherous trials to undertake, before
I finally can unhappiness unmake
Then I will do it.
I will sit on that electric chair –
And as that Throne of Death pumps volts
Of relief through my being, I will know that
It was all worth it –
Just to have known you at all
Just to have known you at all