I dream my tender self
into your presence
that I may melt
against your breast
that I may find peace
but these currents exist
that swallow
that will not allow that sigh
to reach
tendrils strong and needy
rise and drag
poisons seep
through pores
I can’t control
they open and surrender
I see no more
for I ache
I long
I pain
My sharing
turns distant wish
sawed and racked
and scorned and ridiculed
by gremlins grim
Gremlins grown
by desperation
This, they say
is your only chance
your very only chance
your only hope
your very only hope
your only dream
your very only dream
your very only only only
And this onlyness
(so untrue)
rises
in shapes of gremlins grim
that saw and rack
my dream to tatters
And laugh and scorn they do
my Quiet Light of Strings
and mock they do
the gentle dream
the tender self
dreaming of that one embrace
that says:
I understand
