In the eve

I will walk with my drunkenness for midnights and days, noonday and afternoon reposes. When, grown old, the fissures in our bones will crack and break, then still shall we dance; and waltz slowly about the sunset room. And when our bodies, too weak with burden, will lay immobile on a bed of roses, still we will dance! My drunkenness and I, friends, companions, lovers, from our walks in perfumed rivers! We shall dance, for she, the best partner in the room, will smell of spice and immortality.

Always, this longing for slippery slopes. This longing for the burning of the sunshine; For the sunshine to corrode holes in our skin, to drown in its suffocating air, to melt in its infinite warmth. Always, our wish and our curse.

What can I say? I love thee. These words, for once so true, for once, so infinite.
So lost…quite so lost in the gurgling tornado of your emotions. Quite so lost…incurably sickly with the mightiness of your jocundity.
Oh, so deliberately rolling in ribbons of colors and light…spread from the cascades of your hair. And it never ends…the perfume of your beauty.
For ever, eaten by your flavor.

I close my eyelids; ready to plunge in the slumber of kings. And yet…who be here to disturb my illusions? May it be an angel, falling through deceptive light, clothed in a red, consuming passion? May it be God himself, come to judge me, come to lift me, come to break my securities?
Be it my muse, in beauty clothed, as she surrenders to the waves of creativity, drifting me along with the current, sparing my breaths for the air of deep waves, for the salt of sea air?
Be it you, at last, come to rid me of the world? Let us descend among garlands of white to the thrones of nymphs, and converse with the trees, with the stars, with the flowering shrubs! Let us converse over matters of nothing, and fall to laughter on matters of solemnity. Entangle in my shyness, and rid yourself of daily skin. Here, you rest, sparkling with freshness. Let us not waste this new life on pointlessness. We will be giants. We will be creatures of nooks and crannies. We will fill the cups of intoxicated minds; expand and gurgle with joy under the bubbling spray of fountains.

Can you not see this beauty? Fold ourselves to fit in tight drawers, burst into trickles of sweat, into smooth, ironed pockets, into the bowls of goldfish, into bunches of dried flowers; We will be so small as to travel in all these things; To fit loosely in the crevice between our breasts, to grow to where only the universe tries (and fails) to restrain us. Unbridled, like newborn bucks, reeling in joyfulness, chasing summer bees and midnight crickets with our new-found glories.

You be me, and I'll be you. And we'll see the world unfold like a cloud of loosely fitting robes. We'll bend the laws of monarchs; we will, and always breathing from the nostrils of our magnificence.

I tell you now: Throw to damnation your old shoes! Throw down impervious holes all your gratitude! May you thank no one but your own restless spirits, for the hole to death is long and shallow, and rigid with peaks of ice. Inviting with smells of mindlessness; but do not be fooled by the roads of extravagance. In security lies impossibility.

Be with me, and be my bride! Steal away to coves where the light will taste of roses; And there, only there, let your raven ringlets tie knots with the sky.
Securely fastened to celestial vaults, can you breathe! Oh can you breathe! As if oxygen had never fully mated with your lungs! As if your airways had been clogged with a strange, darkly muck all of your existence. How will it feel, when the dirt which fills your nostrils will fall to vapor! Disappear, with no more than a faint whisper, and go to fill only oblivion. For you are the sky, and the spiritless air! And the wavering of softly-scattered clouds in the eve…for you are, and you alone, the gripping, senseless musings of tortured minds…

And what else are we to live for, but the promises of empty dreams? What else CAN we imagine to live for, but this rotating endlessly in the air, spiraling downwards, upwards, to the heavens, to endless stretches of distance, to horizon or to stars? There is nothing else. For truly, we know nothing else.

Come away. Come, and birds with bells of gold will lead us in our wake. Forget your earthly eyes. For things sparkle madly with the eyes of celestial dreamers.