April 6: Night

Night Queene; Predator; Susurrations

 

Night Queene

Betrayal is a sweet hollow in your eyes,
a place where I just fit—
I watched you in your silent agony,
and I decided to ensnare you once more;
you look at me with callous eyes, but I know
that deep within, your cold heart is coated in tears,
and bursting with memories that sting;
but I will forgive you the insolence of your walls
and simply erode them stone by stone…
I will infuse you and confuse you with murmurs,
wrap my fingers into your silky hair, and—
just when you would succumb and banish loneliness,
I will step back to let you chase along…
it is what you want, I know, your voice
is honest when you are alone, cracked with emotions
that you cannot speak to another – or to no one at all;
I have the map to your mind and a key to your heart,
for I have the power to seduce you with a rustle,
with a mere hint of a kiss on my parting lips—
I am moonlight, the stars sprinkled onto the empty sky…
I am the night that gives you dreams and promises,
the truth behind your petty illusions—
perhaps your betrayal is a raw wound,
but your heart of hearts was ever mine:
for I am the night to which you shall wed and
dream of in waking slumber when the sun shall rise…

 

April 6, 2014

Back to Top

Predator

Breathe me in, drink deep before
you slip into uneasy slumber… no reason
left standing, no fear of the dark, for I
have left my mark clearly… be easy,
as much as you can, and
drink soft mourning essence, so that
when the pleasure hits,
the balance will be eloquent and filling,
sparkling with satisfaction… breathe,
keep breathing, and let go slowly,
let time unravel ‘neath your fingertips…
drip by drip let my smile be your light,
a rose that beckons your nectar, and
offers a gentle kiss… let your dreams
wash into your thoughts so that I may taste them,
let them dissolve you into the bliss of your freedom:
while the others keep playing
at puppet shows and violent flailing,
you will have your instincts to cloak you in safety…
for after this night, you are my lover,
a predator to seduce darkness itself into submission—
become mine willingly, and remember:
just keep breathing, and drink…

 

April 6, 2014

Back to Top

Susurrations

My breath is not nearly as sophisticated as the night,
in the way its breezes whisper delights, my voice
crude in response to those soft susurrations: those
intricate temptations of enigmatic tendrils caressing,
smoothing out worries and stark edges alike,
but never quite swallowing all of the light—
it is a dance to be cloaked in the dark, where there is
room to breathe and expand into magical infinity;
it is a lover’s courting to be given the gems of the sky,
and the attention of moonshine – so intoxicating;
in the night, I find divinity and peace, where
the world and its troubles are not real, and this
is why I cannot sleep: for nightmares
are all that wait for me in dreams, but awake to meet
this darkness that seems to love me and kindles passions—
that is my living dream, my heart’s manifestation;
insulated from sunsets to a sunrise, this is my hidden spot
where feelings that have no adequate words thrive,
and my voice is not needed, harsh as it may be:
since this darkness knows me,
there is no need to speak aloud my feelings.

 

April 6, 2014

Back to Top