Saturday, January 14, 2012

Black-Haired Blue-Eyed Lover (Revised)

I once had a Lover
Full of theories
On life and love
In the darkness
He said to me
“If a woman is satisfied,
After the fact,
She never reaches
For a cigarette pack.”
I laid by the side of
This man, who had died
From ecstasy
Listening to him speak of
Dreams, music, memories
The high price of cheese.
Then, I levitated
Off the bed,
Unaware of my nudity,
And softly played the bongo
To the rhythm of
His speech.

Clothed in his
Paisley print shirt,
Bending wire hangers
Into the shape of Cadillacs
Admiring all of the
Musical attributes of Ledbelly
His southern, black, old-timey
Voice wafting from speakers,
Injecting our ear drums,
Coursing through
Our thoughts, feelings, emotions
Each note possessing
An eternal soul

While standing on the bridge,
Gazing down on black water,
I saw Mozart’s Ghost hovering,
All the Caddy doors burst open wide,
Inviting him inside,
His symphonic reverberating apparition
Rode shotgun.

Snowflakes melting
On burning skin
Heat radiating from within
I felt no cold
That blustery night
Holding your naked, warm body
Ever so tightly
Against the icy
Bitter breeze of maturity.

Playing your guitar
Sweetly singing to
Your audience;
The moon and the stars,
I, an honored guest of
Celestial beings and
Ancient, flaming rocks
Reflecting the sun’s glory on
Your dreamer’s face
Making you shine and illuminate
At mid-night
A dark and lonely place
In that moment,
I was unafraid to
Stand in the desolation of
The human race.

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