Sunday, November 29, 2009

Not Going

Poetry to Prose II

Believe it or not, I know that where I'm going is not what we agreed, but I'm not headed to the furthest realm. I'm not going there again, babe. No, I'm not going there again. Listen to my words and hear me, please. No... See me in my elemental image. Feel the dirt underneath your fingernails, and wash your hands in me. Watch me dissolve, just you watch.

Wish me away from you now, and quit enjoying your reflection in my eyes. Just sleep and dream my dreams into oblivion. Play in the sound of breath, my love. Breathe, my love. Build it; she will come at you yet and be everything you never wanted. Don't look back when your dreams come because the truth lies to your heart, and you'll never know you never knew.

Glow bright. It's beautiful on you. I'll finger the lines across your face, trace your profile, tangle my fingers in your hair, let them linger along bodily lines. My touch fades slight; I'll fade away. Believe me when I say, I wish I weren't here. I'm flying where I'd rather walk alone or at least floating when I should stand. I'm not going anywhere now, I know. I'm not going there again.

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