The One I Will Never Show To Anyone

[carose59]

The One I Will Never Show To Anyone



Ideal ideation.

Isn't that who you always were?
Standing in the shadows, holding out your hand to me, offering
cool kisses
the promise of release: the answer,
                        my tunnel at the end of the light?

                "Come with me."  Whispers of a lover,
                                               conspirator,
                                               assassin.
                "It won't hurt.
                                                          I
 won't let anything
                          hurt you."


                       I stare into your eyes,
          falling in love with your promised lies:

                 "You can drop 'I should-I should-I should'
              throw away 'I'm sorry,-I'm sorry,-I'm sorry.'
                     Take up your rose-red shroud,
                          Lie back in my arms.
                                 Sleep."


                                 (forever, adds the night.)

Body heat
cold, cold comfort
chocolate, diamonds, lies.
                             "We'll fall through the clouds
                                 Spiral down.
                         Life is the illusion;
                           only the fall is real
                           only the clouds."


The Best Laid Plans:      you sing to me with the voice
                                     of summer's twilight,
                              your music seducing,
                                       bewitching me
                                        with pretty lies
                                     of endless adolescence

which I believe

which I believe--

dancing in the rain              me in your hot skin
                                you in mine

gliding graceful as a ghost at last,
wild rose-briar weaving through my hair.


And Method.   Certainly you are the Method of my Madness:
                                     "All you have to do is
                     take my blade inside you.
                                      It won't hurt."

"Yes," I say, prayer to a false god.

                                In the dark you find me,
                              find the opening to my heart,
                                    ready-made,
                                   just for you.
                                 The tip grazes my skin.

                                              "Right here."

"Oh, yes."  No more safety, no more worry.
                  Slide your dagger in. Cut me to the bone.

                                                  "Deeper,"
                                you whisper (secret)
 and I feel you go there.

The dream becomes real.
The blood becomes red.

                                                  "Deeper,"
                                you whisper,
as my hands invite you:
            invade my depression;
              rout my abyss.

Rose petals flicker to the floor.

"Yes, yes--"

     The switchblade scalpel sings to my blood,
                            revels as the pulse-tide fades,
         sweet as smoke,
                                                around it.

"Yes!"

                            "Watch your blood spill.
                             Write my name with it . . . ." 

 I hold you close,
  wondering,
  who will write your 
  words
  when I am gone

                               And in the last blue moment,
                                    I look into that abyss.







                                       It looks back at me

 with your eyes, 



and I am taken.