paradoxcycle
Bluelight Crew
people labor to attain what is sometimes, an entrace to a small closet,or a deep pit, or sorrow like a toothache of the brain. i wanted you. i fought you for yourself, i wrestled to open you, i hung on. i sat on my love
as on the lid of a bursting chest. you were what i wanted: you still are. now my wanting feeds on success and grows, bigger by the hour, bolder and louder, screeching and gaping for more, flapping bald wings. i am ungainly in love as a house dancing. i am a factory chimney that has learned to play Bach. i belch rusty smoke and flames and strange music. i am a train that wants to fly. though i try to hide it, i burn with joy like a bonfire, and tomorrow and the next day make me shudder with hope and fear.
we cannot have monogrammed towels or matches with our names on.
we cannot have children.
we cannot share joint tax returns.
we can work together snarling and giggling and grunting.
we can travel.
we can go away and come back.
we can shake each other rattling and honest.
we can have long twining soft voiced phone calls that leave me molten and fevered.
we can make each other laugh, cry, groan until our flesh shines, until heat shimmers in the room. until we steam with joy and streamers of light run down the insides of our eyes.
we can love. we can love. we can love
as on the lid of a bursting chest. you were what i wanted: you still are. now my wanting feeds on success and grows, bigger by the hour, bolder and louder, screeching and gaping for more, flapping bald wings. i am ungainly in love as a house dancing. i am a factory chimney that has learned to play Bach. i belch rusty smoke and flames and strange music. i am a train that wants to fly. though i try to hide it, i burn with joy like a bonfire, and tomorrow and the next day make me shudder with hope and fear.
we cannot have monogrammed towels or matches with our names on.
we cannot have children.
we cannot share joint tax returns.
we can work together snarling and giggling and grunting.
we can travel.
we can go away and come back.
we can shake each other rattling and honest.
we can have long twining soft voiced phone calls that leave me molten and fevered.
we can make each other laugh, cry, groan until our flesh shines, until heat shimmers in the room. until we steam with joy and streamers of light run down the insides of our eyes.
we can love. we can love. we can love
