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Friday, July 10, 2009

Bodies in Darkness Making Light

I am in the dark tonight,
in need of someone to give
their light and shine
it bright; a torch
to burn away all dream of sleep,

to let desire weep and seep through me
and sing a song I think will outlast all
will and sanity; a savage devotion
that reseeds the living
on the earth of skin --

deep, deep, deep within
such desire weeps,
it seeps through hungrily
to linger in the slight shade
of those sapling branches

yearning for that vernal spring --
a longing that grabs by the neck
and shakes the leaves to fall
where they will; so I fall, wet and tender,
I fall to the damp earth

to be filtered by the rain
and dew, to be buried and born again,
to push and be pulled,
to go right through and silence
desire to keep still

as a lover comes to wipe away
its tears of fire,
cremating all thought,
all sense in a feverish
scent of blood seeping

into the very wire
of bodies in darkness
wearing its harness,
making light, searing upwards
to catch starlight

touring human night
since the beginning of its time,
bodies braced
to the other's strength,
forging the length of desire,

beating, breathlessly easing
away the private layers
beneath the lover's skin,
as one need links another,
as desire beats closer --

beats toward the pleasure
that pushes down far enough
to loose the spirit
rising to release,
as desire breaks faster --

breaks its heavy load
from a sweet pressure of
bone and sinew, and we are led
out of ourselves to know
in that moment how lonely

the body is without
such a beginning, and will be
again in such an ending, returning
it specific and concrete
back home alone, all healed

yet now incomplete, yearning
for reconfirmation,
for light consummation,
a spirit-transforming
levitation sailing

on an invisible wing
that flies through
the fantastical, the unreal,
to touch the actual, the real,
and leaving desire

still weeping
to dance to that tune
again and again, to sing in
bodies now lightly touching,
promising more unearthing,

and at the song's end,
while the connection still tugs
in a wrap of arms; to cradle
my saviour from the dark,
in the tightest, tightest hug,

and made fearless by its beam
to lay the torch down;
no longer afraid of sleep
or what it may keep
in the darkness of dreams.

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