The Great Meander

At the edge of here and there

A femur sits atop its story,

Nothing more than a sentry

To its old memories, the small soul

Rattling around inside his thoughts.

.

Lying in the moss is the outline

Of your shadow as I remember it

Riding the waves of night.

You moved like a ghost and sometimes

I wonder if after it all you weren't one.

.

I'd take to all fours and lick the moss,

Wet and cold beneath my palms,

If it meant getting another night

Beneath your shadows in my dreams,

Inside that place that was senseless.

.

Not in its violence or sensuality,

But in the overly firm way it dismantled

The rules of reality, the plays of the game.

You drive every craving inside my chest.

Your voice sings inside my head.

.

It is a tantalizing dream, lying beneath

The lullaby melodies humming inside

Me like a fire that cannot be quenched.

I can hear your late-night murmurings

Like popcorn bursting in my head.

.

It's driven me mad, knowing what you say

When you think I am unconscious.

It's driven me absolutely insane wondering

How you cannot piece together that I

Know you to the depths of obsession.

.

Standard lovers could never reach those peaks.

They are unburied, floating around.

Clouds of hunger, wanton for the abstract,

They are the devourer of thoughts and I will not

Allow them close enough to touch yours.

.

Dream for once of what it would be like

To lie down in the nest of stars.

Dream of what pleasure would come

From seizing the thing that first seized you.

Listen first to your blood in my mouth,

And then dream.