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On Higher Levels
“It’s all about chemistry,” you said.
“You know what happens
when water and earth mixes . . .
Becomes Mud . . .”
I smiled inwardly and wondered
if you really knew
what a steamy mud bath
feels like.
Would the environment help us grow
naked ladies and daffodils?
I felt you stirring inside me . . .
Oh, how I hoped you didn’t notice . . . too much.
Did I conceal it well enough?
Your words were making love to my mind
on higher levels,
over and over again . . .
The push and pull,
brushing against my soul,
breathing life into Ancient Trees
where dead people were wrapping
their roots around me.
Some nights I would undress
before my naked window . . . I could feel your eyes
lapping up every curve and line
until your mind exploded
in silence.
When the feeling became too much,
pouring feverish torrents over me,
The cloak and daggers
came on a sleepless night --
it was you and the red roses . . .
You and the red
roses. . .
A hopeless romantic,
An ancient, young man
with fingers in the gashes
you made inside yourself,
trying to heal them
with seeds
from a Sacred Forest.
Do they even know how deeply
you feel the rhythm?
All the beautiful people
passing below the buttered sky
where we make love in Cohen’s afterlife,
day and night
In the silence,
the noise of raging mechanics
pulled us ever closer,
until all that was left for me
was you, my Love.
Oh, I didn’t have to do much.
I didn’t have to say anything, really.
I wrote my words in the stars each night
knowing you would catch them
if I couldn’t.
30/06/2012
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