in throes of early morning slumber, curled in a dream where
sunrise remains frozen under dyslexic clouds...
he hovers momentarily, indistinctly outlined
where earth and eternity swell in anxious anticipation...
she remains tensed, swallowing hard––waiting for his eyes to descend,
acknowledging her existence...to beckon her forward...
frightened this day she hastens toward him without sanction, soon realizing
he retreats as she advances––never to reach that elusive ombre silhoutte...
defeated, the sun erupts, blistering her flesh
absorbing all the moisture from her dream...
like fragile glass inside a sonic boom he shatters abruptly, scattering to the wind...
in the end she never touches him...
holding onto shards of longing and regret, her eyes open on another
cardboard day where images live and die
on flickering celluloid frames of timid imagination, peeking at the real world
behind blinds and curtains...
god punished this rapacious girl who trailed her men in free verse,
serving words of longing upon a liquid platter...
inside a room where flesh dissolves but rampant desire multipies
to be scaled and parsed into tiny cells chaining her to the east wind...
forever denying the moment he backed away;
understanding the meaning behind her inverted reality...
she remains transfixed sending missives to a lover who ceased to exist once she
invited him into her room without a view...
life in the half-light
by ja allen
prism gates
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