Your nimble fingers harvest
Music from the wind, like a
Myna birds throaty affectations.
At times you seem bound, not
For highways, but the hallways
Of a pythonic egoism.
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The swagger of your jagged
Grin slices open my heart as
If a Reaper’s sickle, I pour
Into you like moonlight cool
And metaphysical, you extract
Me silver from a tremulous
Sensorium and in the night,
Like coyotes, we pursue a
Love that is unspeakable
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My limbs hum the violence
Of a precarious rapture, each
In our own fashion a train
Advancing to some immutable
End. In your vaulted heart the
City craves the consummation
Of a histrionic impetus to fame
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In my heart the prairie, the
Swirling momentum of a
Beatnik dance, the slow sultry
Pulse of a life not hemmed in
By glossy-paged conventions
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I am the Halcyon and you the
Phoenix, if we are destroyed
Only you will rise, so depart
With the sun, sing only and
Never speak of us again
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Submission for
mindlovemisery 