Islands of dreams. Of naked desire. Strip it back, and taste a little truth. Don’t go into work tomorrow, spend the day in bed with me instead. Let the sun wake you up at midday. Then just lay there, looking up at the clouds as they pass on by high above and out of reach. Hours tick away, but the hours mean nothing to me. Time is denied, like dead romance and forced attrition. Have a beer, have a wank. Smoke in the garden, write some poetry. Go for a walk, lose yourself in fields of corn. Sit down, and dream that a raven haired mistress appears and offers herself to you. Imagine removing her dress and taking her right there. But, just as you’re about to come, you turn into a wasp. Or maybe she explodes into a dozen crows. Either way, there’s no going back. There’s an old quarry around here, and it’s full of dirty water. Sometimes at night, the moon shines upon its surface. Sometimes, I forget all the mistakes I’ve made. But not very often.
It’s easy to be cruel, to be dismissive. It’s harder to be honest, to be kind. So don’t try, just keep on lying until the day you die. Become like everyone else. Oh, the dreadful souls that we share this realm with. Hail the beautiful ones, and keep wishing for the ugly ones to disappear. They won’t of course, but it’s always best to have a little hope in your heart. Cling to fantastic thoughts, and breathe in love. Submerge yourself in it. Sex for the sake of sex reminds me of rotting vegetables. The smell, and the way they all dissolve into one another. Pretty girls make graves. Pieces of meat, sold to the highest bidder. Men don’t protect you anymore. They just don’t care. Love should be selfless. But it’s too greedy, too me me me. Sat before the window on a cool June night, drink a glass of pepsi and watch the sky slowly fade. That magical horizon, growing dimmer and dimmer until madness holds sway.
Walk the dog, smile at passers by. Watch the dog shit by the side of the road, then hurredly walk away. ‘Ain’t picking that up. Headaches, aching bones. Read a few books, take a bath. Don’t wanna do anything, just relax. No energy, no lust. Ignore phone calls, avoid social media. People are too much effort. Too selfish. So instead I talk to the trees.
Enjoy the stillness, miss the physicality. That warm embrace. Eyes, always eyes. Gazing to infinity. Nebulas, exploding like all those tiny little deaths along her spine. Creeping like a figure at the foot of the bed. The shape of a lover, the taste of their mouth. The natural ways of being, so easy and true.
Take me someplace where a river runs nearby. Let me hold you in my arms as the stars shine all around us. Just the two of us, no useless souls anywhere to be seen. No noises except for running water and muffled sighs. Away from all the dirt, if only for a moment. Take my hand, and show me how it’s meant to be done. Let me lay you down upon the bed, so I can pour my secrets all over your belly. Dazzling and golden, shimmering like the grin that plays itself along your lips. Cities. Somewhere in my mind, a train leaves a city taking me back home. I’ve tears in my eyes, but don’t know why. Car journeys late at night. All those lonely roads, those tired ghosts that haunt with no real passion at all. Insects buzzing, wind and rain. A landscape of witches, desperately searching for things they’ll never find. There’s no completion. A destination will never arrive. Just take a step aside, and breathe it all in. This is it. Solitude sweet solitude. The fourteenth commandment it was once said. The great masturbater. Applying moisturiser to my face, particularly around my eyes, I smoke a cigarette whilst watching a documentary about the far flung corners of the universe. The universe is too cold for my liking. And too big. It’ll take years for me to be with the stars again. For in the hearts of stars and lovers, is where I long to be.