Good Morning Gods [Revision]

Milky Sunlight filters in,
Grabbing me by the throat and yanking away dreamscapes.
There is still frost on the window,
When I am too ready for spring,
Or the firey sunsets of autumn,
When everything - for one instant - bleeds.
Running over the sun and the leaves,
The heart and the psyche,
Until it's crushed and the ambers smolder.

My body cowers and shivers from brisk air,
And hazy thoughts of lost loves past,
As I sit on home bistros and kitchen counters.
Waiting for something -
Perhaps the ping of a microwave or a cry for revolution?
My mind rattles on like a noisy engine,
Or a worn out mare for hours on end.
As I sit - just waiting -
I think of two:

One who has stolen my heart.
The other who has stolen my mind.
So that my body fumbles,
Hollow -
Like journals unwritten and empty mugs,
And words of passion from little girls' mouths.

I muse strung out on cat-whisker coffee,
And the glare from snow crystals.

The TV remains unwatched in the other room,
Loudly, but hardly distracting.
Somewhere a dog barks,
Fireworks pop in the streets,
I hear a gunshot perhaps...
Someone cries out - perhaps inside my own mind.
For thinking so intently on them
Perhaps - I've gone insane?
Perhaps.

There is something about her that makes me feel unworthy.
A God of knick-knacks and fuzzy butterflies,
Who wells creativity inside of me to the point,
Where I am prepared to rithe out of my skin.
She trills the senses with words and voice,
A Talent I'm eager to obtain -
Or bask in the glory of for days at a time.

And there is something too perfect about him.
A thing that makes me want to touch him,
But I don't know how.
Like he is too good to be tangible.
Too far in to jump back out at anytime.