the book of us

the melting will happen

in the heat of your arms

where i will make it clear to you

with the arch of my back

and the clinging of my fingers

that the book of us

is yet to be written.

the melting will happen,

happen in space, and in time.

this is not a journey of

the brain, we have a physicality

that lusts for something other,

that cries for relief

from the singular story.

right now distance

is our aphrodisiac

as we send out our proxies,

the surges that alert us

of this being no ordinary fiction

but a fact as solid as

the truth in my eyes

and in my songs of yearning.

the melting will happen

and our appetites will be sated.

the melting will happen

and it will become our foundation.

the melting will happen.

the cliff and the moon.

the pull of the tide bends me

fights your pushing

pushing away

the reality

that really scares you

the reality

of actually

connecting

to another

soft

life form.

the clouds have lost

their colour now,

moon wash lulls

our senses as
the collapsing 
happens.

it will be left 

to the cliff

to tell our story,

the moon to see

our struggle

and our surrender.

dream baby.

the thing is, dream baby

i left you behind.

the thing is, dream baby

i couldn't hold on any longer.

the thing is, dream baby

i didn't know if you were

past me, or future me.

the truth is, dream baby

you were so beautiful.

i remember you coming

private things in public spaces

i held you clean, close,

supported you as i sucked

the scent from your head

the life from your veins.

there will be days when i don't

think of you

but when i do, dream baby

you are the sun and the rain,

you drench my senses

with your presence.

you are the future and forever

all at once,

i look forward

not back.

the chaos stops,

the horizon shines,

the way is clear.

this is a dedication to the journey..

the only place.

crystal keen to begin this thing,

over ready

over ripe

to start

instead of skirting the edges.

the only place that digging gets you

is down.

so we leave it to fortune

and hide under covers

no one is keen to reveal,

especially not in bitter mid winter,

the heartbeat that shows

who we truly are

what we truly want

because to do that, well

the only place that digging gets you

is down.

you try to move the goal posts

spinning words like

yesterday's pop songs

that I nearly fall for

again but don't.

it is better to dance nasty

than to dig deep

and the only place that digging gets you

is down.

when the skies glow red.

don't breathe

there is no oxygen left

the fire has taken it all.

don't move

there is no place 

safe for humans.

you understand heat

but these hundred shades of hell

are so unnatural you wonder

which planet you've been moved to.

the dryness tightens your skin

and liquid filters through you,

you're a sieve.

your brain screams "panic"

but your heart cries "be careful"

how can anything survive this?

you think,

and then you try not to.

every horizon drops 

and the atmoshere is

completely visceral,

specks of darkness fall

and you know they were once

living things, taken by the flame.

the light/dark paradox

of your situation is

ultimately eased by time

but somewhere something

is changed - you can never

unknow a fire.

you can survive it, or not

but mother nature is a dominating bitch

etching your psyche with her lessons.

so when the skies glow red,

then black

you'd better have 

your buckets full

and your affairs in order.

we become a rope.

lust tugs
at my edges
and my corners
bursts through
to my dreams
and my fantasies.

you are here
because i bring you,
because of who you are.

touch me
lick me
take me places
fill my spaces
because you
are goodness,
you carry the light
that might just
save me from
falling into the abyss
        but i don't want to talk
        about the vortex.

look for me
find me,
it's never easy
but holding
onto hope,
clinging to each other
and our dreams
is a worthy journey.
then we become a rope.

the minutiae of our lives doesn't matter when you're drowning.

you give up
but then you get angry
at another injustice
another outrage
and all of a sudden
you care again.
it's easy.
you escape in art & music
nurture your soul
do your best
but always
always
the drowning happens.

you captain the boat
you see the lighthouse
you know the sacred
you are strong.

the wake of the past
dissipates to calm again
when you learn the lesson.
the lighthouse looms
as it should,
it is important
a totem for the future
a beacon
for when the drowning happens
to remember
you captain the boat.

pic by kevin brady