Mavi (Blue) - 1. Chapter 1

We love dreaming hallucinations
of ivory towers out of fear
of tumbling truly asleep into visions of
doghouses and nightmares of
Tinseltown-Princesses
falling in love with the dog in the backyard...

* * *

Alexander... they called him Great,
loved a beautiful soldier and a beautiful horse,
kissed one
and the riddle is: Did he kiss both?
which one first and with the most ardor?...

___

... pulsing...
... our blood thick
with us together
oceans of each other
in the salted mist,
rapt, I hear your thunder and hiss
am at sea in your siren call
beckoning my shores
cleansed of all else...
... our anchor rocked
in the umbilical rhythm
washing over us
ceasingly pulsing...

* * *

… my vision of you blinded me
when you came to live
in the irises of my eyes…
… the ultimate,
marriage of illumination and lustrous darkness...
… perfection of vision - blind, yet
still seeing...
irises…

* * *

... there is a dark realm of every
kiss as the kiss of death...

* * *

... I am dying even while I am living
the death you handed me, the life - music
searching blindly for us in
forsaken alleys,
fractured, empty bottles of wine
reflecting the winking of stars
we hold in our hands...

* * *

... you send me artificial roses…
... their spears mock my
fingers,
you ears hear my words, my voice,
... are your guts listening to
the inflection of mine
trying to breathe life
into the petals – and thorns?...

* * *

... I am spirit-Casanova
a consecrated harlot of soul,
boundless, my loves...
... oceans envy my reach...

* * *

... ask and I'll disrobe for
the storm of your eyes,
barren but for your glance,
not sleeping, reveling
in velvet storms of drunkenness to our core ...
… then again, you don't have to ask…
… I have been assailed beyond the
illusion of my robe...

* * *

... in my
drunkenness I don't see double,
I see the blurring of our shadows
etched from above the clouds...
... stumble...
... fall with me...
the floor is a place for us
to lie
inundated in stupor
our stink rising from the floor as one...

* * *

... reach deeply into the quiver,
your hand won't get lost
except in my flame...
... come...
... the arrows will follow...

* * *

... respiration...
perspiring through
the smudged
windowpane that
is us,
indistinguishable from lost expulsions of the hidden sun,
sacredotal robe,
we hide in our nakedness
unashamed to sweat raging
pheromones of naked desire
to live in, breathe one another
until stricken by
arrows of the
moon and laid side by side...
... who cares about the silly sun?...

* * *

... our love needs no tailoring,
unclothed we wallow and play
in the biting November rain
tattering the warp and woof of our
mother sea –
- liquid muslin - too much clothing
let us
get more naked than naked,
more than the earth
the sky,
all the tailoring we need in
the ocean wind…
… do you feel its sting
shredding the veil of
even the rain?...

* * *

... I felt my heart
thundering in the grip
of your velvet-steel gloves
lightning rods thrust inward
to a bone-searing...
... and still I am stunned,
please let me sleep
until the dawn of more thunder...

* * *

... I can't mirror you,
only hope to hold you in
a reflection of myself, dagger
of heaven
through our pores screaming
in a fever for a transcendent wound - alchemy...
... madness...

* * *

... a chemical, my love
enlivening the roots of you
in the ash heap
of all this...
... and I encompassed by the
reek, infusing myself
with your incense incinerating all that is,
with me firmly lashed to the acrid-smoking pyre…
… our essence rising above the stench...

* * *

... when you leave
there is no death
no silence but
soundless cries
of chaos – living,
nothing when you retrurn
but heat raging between here
and beyond,
furnace-anthem struggling
toward fusion ...
... my longing
for a molten center ...

* * *

... snarling beneath the despairing numbness
shuddering trap of my teeth caressing your veins
trying to strain you back into my recesses..
... hissing silence,
blood-cadence, smoke and
seething ice beneath
the emptiness…
… only a trash can to catch and love the debris...

* * *

... moon-stripped void of mine
staring into the pre-time howling of wolves
and sand through your hair
spinning requiem
- ours - in a cauldron of void,
moon-watched, staring... unashamed...

* * *

... I beg your indulgence in rough,
uneven
rhythms, for my best refuge
is me - with the door open to you,
Come, jitterbug in gratitude, in that
a stuttering heart is a heart alive...
... stutter with me...

* * *

... how brutal!... I
said 'I love you'
and deepened was the pool
of our blood-touched union opening
to the most beautiful of poisonous flowers;
we drank deeply, drugged
we slept wide-eyed in each others arms...

* * *

... deeply
where unscroll the petals
burn the jarring-jagged points, the
flourishes
of our labyrinth beyond
unraveling…
... unsolvable riddle, primal,
priceless, profanely scorching...

* * *

... trembling echoes - smoldering -
our lava boils upward
to singe away the scars...
... ashes of newness...
... the wind has never been more lost...
... demons of joy are on the loose...

* * *

... love is blasphemy inherent,
scripture...

* * *

... the distance between us - scorned
by the glance of your eyes possessed
by our nights
flittering before the mocking dawn of your eyelashes...
... sunrise disheviling darkness has
never been more replete,
as close as
our clutching fingernails
eyelash to eyelash, skin-of-skin...

* * *

... a bright shadow casts our darkness -
never more luminous...

* * *

... suspended, I languish in the wantonness of
your shadow,
breathless, watching you kick it around...
... lost... found ... lost...
... I don't live on the edge,
we are the edge, you and I...
... the exit is the way in...

* * *

... give me your cheek
and I'll slap your
blood to your roots,
stunning them, shouting them awake,
the dance thereof will never die
and resurrection never sleep
except to dream...
... us...

* * *

… you came down from Mt. Olympus
and my head suddenly spun
with your olive scent,
craning my neck to
look up at your tangled hair
searching to fathom our connection
crowning the summit
holding our olive branch
torn from your sacred grove...
... anointed snare of our depths,
dirt-scented vine of Olympus...

* * *

... shards of laughter
strew some alleys,
shattered grace of bridges,
haunted sacrifice of cathedrals, hovels, our temple...
... strewn… stinging grace of laughter
aching to remove the shards...

* * *

... no wound is deeper
than that laid open
by your eyes and I bathe
in the salt sweat to immersion,
never crying out
for a ceasing
of the flood
riding mercilessly
toward our immolation...

* * *

... I once was prenatally afraid
of your eyes, now luxuriating
in the exquisite excruciation of terror
renewing the womb of my being...
... I can only beg
for bliss of the nightmare evermore...

* * *

... the raven spoke: ''Nevermore!''
and I wandered into the raven-soul of night
casting about for wings...
... my face was smitten by the feathers of
yours soaring through the musky dark,
and it rained!
''nevermore!''
... our wings are locked together...

* * *

... numb satin intoxication arising
to awakening epiphany of anguish,
expectant grind of waiting,
ecstasy of desperation to fall unleashed
for flight...
... let me see into your eyes and
I shall lose my grip,
… linger for my plunge...

* * *

... before you pull the trigger
ask yourself if there is any love
at the point of a gun...
... or anything but...

___