The other night I had a dream fucking weird: I was with a girl and we were touching each other
You have a girlfriend and I have to respect that but damn, we would be so good together.
cries the magician,
smoking a cigarette.
his lips on my lips
his hands on my hips
his forked tongue, my dragon lungs
with the fire he left in me.
“am i alive?” i ask
but the sun does not answer to the moon that shines because of it
nor does victor to his MONSTER
clay to the fingers that command it
sculpting scars from the impetuous
bruises from my ignorance
only a god knows how to save me
and cure me with a fist
but HE —
is michaelangelo sublime
pygmalion and red wine
“breathe me,” one more time
until my chest rises with his breath
eyes rolling into my head and staying open
“this city is a jail yard.
is my name still locked inside?
does the beat of my heart still
through the streets
like the current of an electric fence?
do watchtowers lean
in to listen to the echoes of my voice?
when i ask if i’m alive, that is
i mean to say,
am i power.
will the skyline bend
for me as they do for you?”
the magician only laughs
and conjures in two hands
everything i need
but don’t yet understand
pokerchips for pentacles
a bottle for a cup
switchblades for swords
a pen for a wand.
if one thing is the same
since i saw the city last
it’s that i don’t know what love is
but i do know what’s not.
his altar-ed mind.
this sordid shrine.
his hollow inside.
idol hands do my lover‘s work.
and the sidewalk cracks under the magician’s feet.
am i there too?
(i think i liked it better with my eyes closed.)
This man has shown me over and over that he knows exactly how to love every part of my being.
All there’s left for him to do now is to let me hear it from his mouth. Form the words, send them to my ears on that voice of his, and give me that last bit of comfort in knowing exactly how he feels.
i will always love you.
i never knew my first love would be with a woman, but i didn’t fall for you because of your gender,
i fell in love with your being; your soul.
even now, i wouldn’t change a thing.
I’m fighting myself to not have too much hope. Because I want you too much.