A night of Lust

 

We went to the church this night 

I've touched your hand in my silence 

You smiled 

Soft, radiant 

Like a full moon.

Seduction. 

Do you know that this

Is a type of memory 

Exclusively tied to the touch?

Haptic memory. 

We looked around

The miracle of the night 

The scents and

pollen of existence.

I am troubled

Immeasurably

By your eyes.

I caught 

A glimpse of her:

She looked so sad in this light 

Like a friendly hand

just out of reach.

A candle stranded on

This church.

Soon she will disappear

into the calm

morass

Stay!

My Wild Love!

Time searched the hallways

for a mind.

Hands kept time.

The climate altered like a

visible dance

When your eyes fight

To explain.

I wanted to take you 

Next to my chest.

The sound of 

Your heart beat 

Night-time women.

Wondrous sacraments of love.

I'm lost in the vanity

of the senses.

Have you ever seen "God"?

An angel runs

Through the sudden light

Through the church 

A ghost precedes us

A shadow follows us. 

Felt?

The Sun

The Moon

Heard? Music,

Voices

Touched? 

Your hand.

Tasted? 

water

And wine.

That’s how I met her,

lonely and frozen

And sullen

right from the start.

You want ecstasy

Desire,

Dreams.

The unfolding

instant of creation

Things are not exactly what they seem.

Mouth fills with

Taste of wine

A coin spins. The faces.

Two girls 

One a friend, the other, the young one, a newer stranger.

The blonde one was called Endeavour

The brown one, Freedom .

We talked and they told me the story 

Of Venus Delta's.

Lust.

She holds back the urge to masturbate. 

I want you to touch me.

The still waters of your mouth 

Under the trick of kisses.

Confusion

No connections

Girl begins to bleed

She says her period

It's Church heaven. 

We are promised.

We of the purple glove

We of the starling flight

And velvet hour

We of arabic pleasures's night 

We of sundome and nights.

Where is the wine?

In that moment 

We were infinite.

What can I do so that will

somehow reach her

on a Sunday Morning

When she's already back?

I dropped by to see you

late this night-

She said -

But you were out, 

like a light

In its calm garden.

I wanted to feel your eyes on me

When I look away 

What are you dreaming about?

You asked-

I am a guide to the Labyrinth

Monarch of the Volatile towers

on this cold stone 

above the iron mist

sunk in its own waste

breathing its own breath.

I will show you the girls of the ghetto

I will show you the burning well

I will show you strange people

haunted, beast-like, on the

verge of evolution.

Look at the

Brothels.

You smell like love.

I’m alive. 

I’m Me!

Still laughing in the wind.

When...

 When 

Desires, memories, fears, passions form labyrinths in which we lose and find and then lose ourselves again.

When we open ourselves

you yourself to me and I myself to you,

when we submerge

you into me and I into you

when we vanish

into me you and into you I

Then

am I me

and you are you.

More...

 The more they lock down

The more my heart opens

The more they say “You cannot”

The more I say “I Am and I will” 

The more fear they bring

The more I will trust

The more they say “trust us”

The more I will trust on my intuition and the divine

The darker they try to make it

The brighter my light shines 

The more they try to divide

The more I will stay connected

The more rules they impose

The more sovereign I will be 

The more they try to tame me

The wilder I get

The more they threaten 

The fiercer my roar

The more they say “bow to me”

The stronger I stand. 

I bow only to Love. 

I am Free.

To my dear R.

 

From: "Good morning, R!"

I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with.

Tell me why you loved them,

then tell me why they loved you.

Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through.

Tell me what the word home means to you

and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name

just by the way you describe your bedroom

when you were eight.

See, I want to know the first time you felt the weight of hate,

and if that day still trembles beneath your bones.

Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain

or bounce in the bellies of snow?

And if you were to build a snowman,

would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms

or would leave your snowman armless

for the sake of being harmless to the tree?

And if you would,

would you notice how that tree weeps for you

because your snowman has no arms to hug you

every time you kiss him on the cheek?

Do you kiss your friends on the cheek?

Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad

even if it makes your lover mad?

Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion

or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?

See, I wanna know what you think of your first name,

and if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy

when she spoke it for the very first time.

I want you to tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind.

Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel.

Tell me, knowing I often picture Gandhi at ten years old

beating up little boys at school.

If you were walking by a chemical plant

where smokestacks were filling the sky with dark black clouds

would you holler “Poison! Poison! Poison!” really loud

or would you whisper

“That cloud looks like a fish,

and that cloud looks like a fairy!”

Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin?

Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea?

And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell me 

how would you explain the miracle of my life to me?

See, I wanna know if you believe in any god

or if you believe in many gods

or better yet

what gods believe in you.

And for all the times that you’ve knelt before the temple of yourself,

have the prayers you asked come true?

And if they didn’t, did you feel denied?

And if you felt denied,

denied by who?

I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror

on a day you’re feeling good.

I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror

on a day you’re feeling bad.

I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty

could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass.

If you ever reach enlightenment

will you remember how to laugh?

Have you ever been a song?

Would you think less of me

if I told you I’ve lived my entire life a little off-key?

And I’m not nearly as smart as my poetry

I just plagiarize the thoughts of the people around me

who have learned the wisdom of silence.

Do you believe that concrete perpetuates violence?

And if you do 

I want you to tell me of a meadow

where my skateboard will soar.

See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living.

I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving,

and if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes.

I wanna know if you bleed sometimes

from other people’s wounds,

and if you dream sometimes

that this life is just a balloon —

that if you wanted to, you could pop,

but you never would

‘cause you’d never want it to stop.

If a tree fell in the forest

and you were the only one there to hear 

if its fall to the ground didn’t make a sound,

would you panic in fear that you didn’t exist,

or would you bask in the bliss of your nothingness?

And lastly, let me ask you this:

If you and I went for a walk

and the entire walk, we didn’t talk.

do you think eventually, we’d… hug?

No, wait.

That’s asking too much 

after all,

this is only our first time to see.

To "Good night and sleep well, R!"

By A.G.