The Shape Of The Night


Slipping beneath the crawl space, we play the infinity game. Dead zones and crumpled chests. The downward spiral beginning at the foot of your bed. Collecting sunflower seeds, the roots of our faith are planted with utmost sincerity. Joking aside, there’s no saving the damned until they glimpse themselves without restraint. All internal. Fantasy in the fall of 1978. In a wrecked car on the highway. Guilt on fingertips- spinning in the dust of ages. Whiskey on the breath of fallen angels. Doors slowly closing. Love blossoming like flowers in the Spring. Quiet years of awakening. Submissive yet lucid. The hunter turned hunted. Lonesome hearts. The shrine of the one who becomes something more. She smiles with dimples. She nestles her head next to mine. Bells chiming. My bone in her throne. Beauty personified. Honest soul. Liberty, sweet liberty with hands clasped. The sky stained with religious text. Secrets so powerful. Lust so ripe. Slip those clothes to the floor, and come become one. Parisian streets strewn with litter. Venetian canals floating with tombs from a place not yet known. 1969. Romance on the sands of Utah. The choice is clear. No crisis, just a saviour of minds. A prison in the clouds. Childhood anxieties fluttering like curtains. Parasites. Wizards. Smoke a cigarette. Speak openly while not breathing. Synthetic flesh. Synthetic feelings. Catcher of thoughts. Illustrator of riddles. From hibernation comes awakening. All things eventual to those who dream without limits. Traces remain of the innocence you were once made of. The desire to see with open eye. Symbols of teenage lust. Of the need to escape through keyholes and medication. Soul wax in warm hands as the snow falls across wastelands untrue. Peeling back layers. Breaking down doors. Tomorrow not born, we search for relics that will help us build ourselves better again. Sweetness in pages unwritten. In curves, she disturbs when biting at my hip. Those lips that kiss with sullen remorse. Come now, don’t feel down. Just lie back and let the stars in the sky flow through your veins. Let them ignite you. Let them burn away all the junk that weighs you down. Too many shipwrecks. Too many graves at sea never to be graced by their lovers faces. The weight of half the world. The shape of the night through my viewing lens. So serene and easy. So still and dreamy, with the stairway to your heart turning on the shoulder of Orion.

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