The Claustrophobic Edge

I I see pale blue little fingers outstretched to wrap around the candleshaft of my only desire, with twitch in the palm and grip in the blood.  II The flame leaves the wick by my next breath, a current carrying the last of my hope and frosted in a wavering disposition of what is to come.  III A child’s pallid face stood watching as my feet drowned in the mirage I encountered yestereve of an ocean slowly ascending to the air above. IV In my veins rushed anxiety and suspicion and the world sped close to the body within my skin, prickling with the fear of wide eyes and strained nerves. V I’ll confess the weakness that through midnight dreams fogs the glass of a force I contain, and hope that the tide goes down for now it is to my shivering knees. VI Salts of my tears take refuge in the buds of my tongue, diving to join the waves below in which I cannot stand with pride of mine eyes and what they have seen. VII A pressure on my thigh of small hands I cannot have for mine own brings the suffocating need to reach down and peel the flesh away. VIII Mine own hand trembles against a delayed body of simple purity  in attempt to request an air of comfort, a new morning to shine, or any forgiveness at all. IX To my shoulders hath the ocean risen, and in my ears a song of drowned souls rumbles until it fills the nakedness I observe of myself, escaping through the pores. X With eyes to a borderless sky, it’s my youth I watch before the water of my pain melts conception and blare into serenity for all to find afterward. XI Release as an error only found in reach of my impractical and petty salvation, climbing my throat like the sounds I can’t control, resounding until they reach a forever. XII In loyal dischord, the infant mouth of my reason places a kiss on my feverish brow, and with it mine eyes fall closed until they become the rising sea.Fall 2001, Written February 18th, 2002 © on Feb 18 2002 09:31 AM PST   0 • 1