THE TRACE OF NIGHT
I want to fall in love with you...
Rip-roaring mad, free!
like scarlet silk ruffles
through soft and wild winds
across orange-soaked faces
of yellow daffodils-
Her breath-soaked words
unspoken,
caught in colored
stained glass, fractured,
shattered-
Red drenched heart
forgotten,
Lost-
Falling aimlessly,
unfounded in the blank
and blinding stratosphere.
A challenge,
to the very impulse of faith
You-
A manifestation,
resurrected in flesh and blood!
In. Whole. Heart.
Your heart rests
on the center of lips,
ripe and puckered bloom,
on the tips of a resounding, yes-
Yes!
I want to fall in love with you,
I do.
I want to spill into your skin
as twilight falls into stars,
just slip away from this world,
wildly bright and collapse-
Collapse, cracked open
into the dreams of day- -
- - But of night,
you are a phantom, an apparition.
A blurry emission of pastel haze;
purple, pink and blue persona,
the illusion to which my ache
is never quenched,
yet your call haunts me-
The Trace of Night,
lies thick on your name.
Hung by the necks
of a thousand soulless tongues
as winter drifts by... and by…
and by...
Oh, cast your seed across
bachelor button fields,
spread wide the hunting ground-
Conjure the calla lilies and call upon me!
Call forth a sonata of blue-masked birds
only my bones can receive, unbounded
by the blazon blueberry sky-
Let the planet's ring!
Hear it rave and ripple
underneath the whale's song
as earth quakes and trembles,
begging stones to rise up
from soil so that life climbs back
into the very pulse of my blood!
My full body entreaty,
trails the scent of my desire
on your flesh.
It Burns - -
- - My eyes,
can only draw upon
the breath of your gaze.
So that my fire,
the blaze inside you,
knows that I-
- Am with you too.
- Tiny Poet, The Trace of Night, 2016
Rip-roaring mad, free!
like scarlet silk ruffles
through soft and wild winds
across orange-soaked faces
of yellow daffodils-
Her breath-soaked words
unspoken,
caught in colored
stained glass, fractured,
shattered-
Red drenched heart
forgotten,
Lost-
Falling aimlessly,
unfounded in the blank
and blinding stratosphere.
A challenge,
to the very impulse of faith
You-
A manifestation,
resurrected in flesh and blood!
In. Whole. Heart.
Your heart rests
on the center of lips,
ripe and puckered bloom,
on the tips of a resounding, yes-
Yes!
I want to fall in love with you,
I do.
I want to spill into your skin
as twilight falls into stars,
just slip away from this world,
wildly bright and collapse-
Collapse, cracked open
into the dreams of day- -
- - But of night,
you are a phantom, an apparition.
A blurry emission of pastel haze;
purple, pink and blue persona,
the illusion to which my ache
is never quenched,
yet your call haunts me-
The Trace of Night,
lies thick on your name.
Hung by the necks
of a thousand soulless tongues
as winter drifts by... and by…
and by...
Oh, cast your seed across
bachelor button fields,
spread wide the hunting ground-
Conjure the calla lilies and call upon me!
Call forth a sonata of blue-masked birds
only my bones can receive, unbounded
by the blazon blueberry sky-
Let the planet's ring!
Hear it rave and ripple
underneath the whale's song
as earth quakes and trembles,
begging stones to rise up
from soil so that life climbs back
into the very pulse of my blood!
My full body entreaty,
trails the scent of my desire
on your flesh.
It Burns - -
- - My eyes,
can only draw upon
the breath of your gaze.
So that my fire,
the blaze inside you,
knows that I-
- Am with you too.
- Tiny Poet, The Trace of Night, 2016