#ashotinthedarkissometimesmurder
From the ancient dead
He made bone soup and drank deep
To absorb their power
She comes to me at night,
And even in darkness
I am transparent to her
The scarring in my cheeks,
The jumble of my bones,
The rifts and valleys in my brain.
Our Lady of La Brea leans in close
Draping me in the scent
Of a newly minted highway
That leads directly home.
She puts a perfect pitch finger on my lips.
She puts her perfect lips against my ear.
もののあわれ, she sighs.
I have seen the next world.
You will be a snowy egret,
And I will be your shadow.
As I have always been your shadow.
I will remain darkness.
Until you fill me with light.
In every recent dream
I die, and go to hell.
It is hot, and there are demons.
I torture them.
One by one they disappear,
Until hell is empty
And I roam the black hills
Alone.
We are all too sick
To do anything but struggle.
Under her everything-colored hair
Her everything-colored eyes are warm and fragile
Like transparent teacups.
With delicate precision,
I attempt to levitate the dish.
Quietly it turns and floats gently in the air.
I take the tiny Blue Giant succulent from its pot.
The Blue Giant falls to pieces.
I put the pieces in the dish.
I attempt to levitate the dish.
With delicate precision,
I attempt to levitate the dish.
I attempt to levitate the dish.
I attempt to levitate the dish.
I attempt to levitate the dish.
I attempt to levitate the dish.
I attempt to levitate the dish.
I am still attempting to levitate the dish.
The struggle
Is to create a language
To express an experience
You can't have.
There were no gods,
Just a world
Too vast and beautiful
For shoddy, man-made language
To comprise.
Either way,
How we feel
Has too many dimensions
To fit in a word
Or a phrase, a paragraph,
A field of study.
Anything I say is a lie
By enormity of omission.
I love you. That's a lie.
I need you. That's a lie.
I want to hold the nib of your essence forever in the curl of my tongue. That's a lie.
That's a lie.