We all shake our gates to the sound of riddled irons
Ricocheting off midnight streets in lonely battle cries.
We dress formal, we provide answers,
We lose sight of retail for a better lease on life.
We do this. We pound our own hammer
With all our might, until fatal the blow
Or sharp the edge.
I remember your hair when it turned black.
It reminded me of reflection off the lake
As night rolled in from daylight.
I saw ravens circling around
And the nightlife lights shining neon
In a jet set latex of thrills.
It was 70s underground
That had no part in funk.
I remember how tight the black looked,
How sharp it felt and cleanly it cut.
I could see space ships taking off
Into an outer limit that redefined blackness
With foreign substances like black holes and galaxies.
But most of all, I remember how much life
Existed within those black walls,
How friends moored for comfort
And looked for desire and found life
And how even your stare
Was pure blackness through my eyes of sight.
I remember your trance,
And how looking into it intrigued me so much,
That I knew of nothing else but the
Strange affliction it had on my pulse.
Today black is all I wear.
I cloth myself because I have become itself,
Lost in an experiment of dance,
Too foolish and too free yet
To back down and bow
Before the queen I know
The blackness you are.
And I will rest here at your feet
Awaiting the smoke to clear and
Lift the sharpness licking my brain.
Today I go into beyond,
Parting heavy gates.
Closed last season.
Battling;
Clear.
Never understanding
This strong grip.
What lifted my spirits
Above swords so sharp,
To plunge back down
Into death so brown.
Here I grow
Beyond my heart.
Alert and
Lost to earth.
Bound with opal strings
I gaze into my holder.
Eyes so strong.
Until I smooth clean off
Like rolling fog,
Smothering my choice.
I’ve longed for such a chapter of lust
One that breaches the subjects of love
Tell me a little longer
Of the secrets they call trysts
Wild with a blaze
Strong with a theory
Making sharp notes into time
Crowding the lustful cherries of the end
Core maximum
Engines red
Guns a blazing
Smoke rising
Cool nights like these are the ones that seek my own sanity
Deep within the pipe whistle that blares out these two toned ears
Like the sharp edges that cut this time so
Perhaps the shadows will be a bit more forgiving
With their loss of dimensions
All willy nilly changing to the motion of light
Sometimes here, sometimes there
Sometimes falling in a steady glow about your gaze
Transfixed into the lost souls that speak forgotten tongues
Yet work the windows like Jack Frost in the waking hour
Don’t mind that scratching sound now
Don’t mind those omnipresent shadows
Don’t mind the strange noises crawling down your spine
Don’t forget to say your prayers tonight
