In A Town Near You

.
And pacing,
My dreams wasting away,
My mistakes taking place at a more regular pace
Than I can abase with short words,
In such short space..
.
Near you, in your town, I was hanging around
In my casual way,
In my old stomping ground,
There was no need to surround me
With familiar sounds;
.
Like your voice when you tell me
You’re not coming round.
.
Like your voice when you sell me out,
Broken and bound.
.
Like your voice when you’re here and
So guilty in delight,
Vocal chords wound tight
Embossing waning night
.
In waves of silver haze,
Your silken voice flows,
I smoulder in your gaze,
And we are all we know –
.
You stand so tall, so broad, so proud,
In my affections.
You are so bronze,
Immortal,
And my intentions
ebb,
and flow..
in such sweet perfection.
.
In such pure, chaste perfection,
That I just need to know..
Which way you want to know me…
Which way you want to be..
.
It’s ok, I’ll be you,
If you’ll just be me.
We’ll be us and
everything will be…
.
it will be…
.
I lose myself in you.
Just like i know you want me to.
.
That’s forbidden fruit
for you to pursue,
death for a girl like me
free to peruse so many possibilities;
.
yet none of them appease.
.
Alone at night,
dependent upon these dreams
to fulfill my secret needs,
still none of them appease.
.
‘Till my mind leaves my body and I am at ease,
where even the wildest possibilities seem calm to me,
when the smallest sins would scream damnation at me,
these swirling clouds above seem frozen to me.
.
For I lay in serenity’s midst –
Conscious of naught but its malleable widths –
the intangible boundary where heaven meets land,
like the land outside my window,
this graveyard, on my astral plane exists
.
with the grace of wisdom and humility,
the musty air of age –
nursing me back to my cage, this body,
I would be off with,
I would replace.
.
I raise my hand to the cold pane,
wishing I’d the means to return again
but the pitter
patter
of my loneliness’s fragmented rain
spits and
splatters droplets
on the headstones of the burial shades
.
of those who’ve dreamed and been
and lived and grieved this all before –
.
.
.
Maybe one day I too will be rained upon for no other purpose
than to augment the reflection of an individual,
upon love.
.
.
.
[end/arken2000]