Sleep, when welcomed, is intense for me lately. More of a broken promise than anything else. So I dive headfirst through the nightmares, swallowing each massacre as it comes to me. The hunting of peacocks who then turn to human flesh / dancing with bitter memories which scarcely radiate like Taurus [dying] in the sky / moving quickly among bushes to bring someone a brittle sacrifice / yelling with a harsh overtone as a lover liberated with pure rage / skating across an ocean only to be swept down to the Mariana Trench / falsifying my health – I’ve finally felt madness / the piercing, violent embrace of death / my father.
However, there is sweetness. Mania wraps me in her promises of grandeur. Eating crabs as snack food, I live & smile / helpless? never / a sinful smile across swollen lips; glowing lights like bright sand on an undiscovered beach are now the keepers of my sanity / realizing there are taboo acts in which I wish to safely participate / writing poetry again – the scorpion has been placed before me / “God, I’d give anything to be as pretty as you, young one” :: “why, thank you… and thank you for the green beans” / bronzed clouds, a rabid {biting} jackal, a peaceful resolution all my own, perhaps a figment of my imagination but it still feels real / erotic motives approached by Venus, my salmon colored preacher / my father (thanks for this gift, dad).
And I am still breathing. Here is my electricity; back and free of venom. Maybe I’ve discovered quite a lovely antidote.
Let it remain, celestial protector.
