May 15, 2008
I've had your voice
inside my head
fed to my ears through
headphones
for hours, listening to
you express
concealed feelings of
vulnerability.
These words spoken so
frailly
like a steady trickling
stream
of consciousness flood my
body
with adrenaline and
desires,
and I become engulfed
just by the explanation
of your emotions and
begin
analyzing my own, though
they
are not unfamiliar to me.
But I'm am now too at
risk
in the same sense as you.
Loss for unsure gain of
something
that feels so right, and
reads so
on all the signs in our
dreams.
I am a blend of transparent obsidian
And fragments of frozen mercury
Sculpted with my eyes wide, gaping.
The blood inside my rusty copper pipes
Surges like Caracas mudslides,
As my heart rate rides on cruise
In a stalemate state of rapid heartbeats.