Longing
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.