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From the Nostril Vortex

I breathe in your perfumed 
Plasma leaves from the nostril vortex.
I thrive in the pleasant scenes and velvet touchings. 
I wince like a skybird earthbound.
Dare to escape from me. 
Dare to hide in the dark.
Shhhh! Don’t make a sound.
I am dancing without shoes in the moonlight.
I am waltzing with precise pre-planned movements in space.
I am spewing out movements that show you and me,
The two of us, walking the precise path to here and there,
And then finally to the place of all endings,
And like the cool morning mist, death enters unseen.
“It’s the tomb! I’m in the tomb!
Mother, Father come get me here in the dark!”
But first, slowly slowly slowly…
I lift up her leg there in the shadows,
And I caress, and smell and lick.
“I have found the best time!
This is the most excellent moment!”
I was there in the dusty places,
I was hanging nearby with all of you.
I was wet with unimagined enticings,
Weary, oh so world-weary to the nucleus of my bones!
Of tentatively living all the years of a dubious lifetime,
And of finally dying in the dry ditches of twenty thousand days.

“Come here honey, kiss me now, here in the distant cemetery.
We can hold on to each other
As the mad earth spins into oblivion.
“Sir, would you be so kind?
Some mindful enterprise and
The Pretext Syllogism combo.
And I will have a side of nomenclature
And for dessert two heapings of existential mind mysogenation,
Topped with granulated mesomorphic nom de plume!
Dancing, dancing, dancing and holding on.
She and me sweating in the black heat.
No other way to live.
No other way to breathe.
“I am just here. 
See? Know what I mean?
I was born into this like all of you!
I had nothing to say about it.
What do ya say, honey? What do ya say?”

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