[The Cascading Secrets of Slumber Spent Alone]
I sit here,
unmoving,
blocking out the purposeless
murmurs of my growing desire
to be with you
to become your angel
[with ethereal wings spread wide]
to become an effortless spasm
[in your body, your mind]
Lackluster callings and the grandeur of silence
break the bonds of everlasting bliss
Has the time come when we line up
and agree simply to move in the same
direction, only to fall and break apart?
but, of course it has�
I sit here,
caffeine-eyed,
gazing innocently at
your picturesque beauty
your intense calculations
[of lust, of love]
The phone rings, consciousness claims me from
the simplicity of slumbered perfection
�and your image fades from my outstretched hands, forever lost�
t.seymour
1.30.2003