Longing

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in scattering twilight

we make our messes reach the desired haven

beyond the light and shadows, she calls to me

‘creation. creation. creation.’

pounding desires like pistons

i fire aim, fire and aim

step from the cradle and into a vision

fire. aim. fire and aim.

walk the wire, wait and listen

till we see something paint past the system—

and still she knocks

            but my hands are too shaken

            my knees bent and broken

            and the door is locking from the inside?

and still she knocks

            without a word spoken

            never a point, a meaningful connection

she just toys, humming and dreaming a song

            while i scream

                        i want i want i want

            and in a roundaboutway

                        i know who she is

            now that i know what i’m missing

                        and in that small notion

                                    i possess everything.

            till in silence i lean against the door

                        sliding down to the floor, in exhaustion.