We begin the descent, he & I,
It’s always around 2am that he enters,
My sleep induced, unconscious mind,
In the Under-World, there’s no such thing,
As Spring flowers,
Birds of bower.
He brings me here to witness;
The dark sky rumbling,
The masculine electricity pulsating,
The mountain of ashes that hides the Phoenix (for now),
And I am touched by the erotic thrumb of our environment.
He uses his words to soothe & caress me,
Then reaches for me – his hand is alive with,
Desire, passion, lust, violence even.
Then I wake up,
And I lie there staring at the ceiling,
Wondering how I can get back into that dream!
“Come back!” I whisper to the dark, dark night,
“Don’t leave me here. I’ll let you touch me,
You can do anything to me that you want!”
And then I become aware;
The wind is howling around my house,
And it’s a Super Moon night and I wonder,
Does it mean I’m verging on madness if I go.
And stand under the streetlight in my white, lace nightgown?
Maybe that way he’d spot me!
But, I know, he’s not out there,
He’s a feature of my mind,
And belongs to either the future or the past,
Who can tell?
He will enslave me in the end,
As I submit to his will,
And hand over total control of myself,
– my mind, my body, my soul.
And as the fever of arousal starts to break,
I use my hands,
To quickly flip on the light,
And sit up to write it all down,
But will be unable to share it with the world;
Too sacred, too profound.
The tears flow freely,
Tears of longing & yearning,
For something that will never be mine,
Not in the material world anyway.
Then I fall into an exhausted sleep,
Knowing that the break of day,
Will drive a mighty wedge between us,
But he’ll be back – as sure as the day is long,
He’ll be back … he always is.
©LMM – written October 2016