It felt so hollow lonely
in the marshes
of the underground,
my tentacles flapping in breezes,
intertwining arms with weeping willows
and bluebirds in fantastic flight.
There was a hole
in my eight-armed head,
one giant eye space
that just took it all in
with wide octopus stares
through your brainwaves
to the moonlight behind you
back down inside your veins
pumping fucking fire
which made me burn with pleasure.
And then I craved more than breath
to let my mouth fall on your skin
like foggy rain in the daytime,
my soft lips
on your fingertips,
caressing ever curve
pouring love down you
from the top of your spine
to feet.
I wanted to take tea
with your fears and tears,
hold them until
they were soothed to sleep,
shed some light on
the shadow sides of the masks
you wear so well.
But after a time of unlearning
the cityscapes,
I came from the womb
of the reaper,
again,
shuddering
down to my bones,
felt called to the spirit world,
looking through walls
to heaven
and enjoying all my space there,
ebb like water to find that
home feeling again
back here between the inky words,
the worlds colliding,
universes flirting with each other,
big smiles,
the steps on the pavement,
dances at 4 oclock in the morning,
tethered to the headboard
with a prayer.
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