.sleep-taking.

.she strays.

.gently now

you've tugged at that hand a long time

breathed sweet, careful manipulations into that ear

long winters and summers longer still

built the bridge you'd have her cross, with matchsticks

and she has begun to move

find her at her weakest

comfort her with their absence

catch her in your black cloud as she sinks

but she woke up in a dream in his arms again

you are inside her songs

he keeps getting in the way

her dreams are getting in the way

her slender hand is slipping away

not just yet

she will belong to you

if only because they don’t know any better

follow her trail with the smile

he took from her

it leads back to something else

not to you

she would let you sink into her

he still gets in the way

she will belong to you

another summer?

not if you have your way

her face held close, close to yours

your hold strong enough that she can't breathe

that's all it takes

her eyes widen with the ember glow from yours

this restless work of art, forever incomplete

no more desolation every time she wakes

The pieces within her shift in answer to yours

she has fallen

and she will sleep no more.

.last winter.

.i was lost in the snow again last night, in a strange little town. like a wolf cub abandoned by its pack. seeing another woman change into something more suited for walking on ice, i slipped off the shoes that you hate so much and watched them change color in my hands. meanwhile, my feet left shapes in the snow. the strange thing is, you were carrying me before this. one of the boys in the red shirt was angry with us. but you were carrying me, and then i was lost. abandoned, i walked away. i felt less out of place than i do on a route i take every day. then again, this was a dream.

.ever since, things have been strange.

.this morning when she came to sit beside me and her arm grazed mine, i imagined the near electric blue from around her eyes pass between us. i wonder if she did, too. 

i wonder what will become of our little world that i love so much and yet continually sabotage to the brink of it shattering in my palms. the problem is that i don't remember loving it when i'm in destruction-mode. as hard as i try, i can't bring back alive feelings a week old. my angel of doom. becomes unreal to me. just a shell of something i made up in a dream. and no matter how much i tell myself it's all real, it isn't real right now. and i don't know what to do with that. 

.i don't know what to do with this pen and this paper on my lap. might as well make little imperfect aeroplanes, set them on fire, watch them fly and celebrate.

celebrate everything in the universe that's burning up. maybe because there's nothing else left to celebrate. maybe because it's just easier to do than putting out the flames and salvaging what one can. i'm not sure which.

"what happens to a dream deferred"

.last night, my dream escaped and flew to you. or maybe it wasn't a dream. just a stray thought, or a compact combination of all my thoughts, manifested in your dream. a ton of dead emoticons. and me saying 'i can't take it anymore'.

.something that won't disappoint.

.i am laughing bitterly at you in my head

sick of being stuck in the middle, you said
sick of playing hangman when you want to paint the moon
maybe you can't see yourself the way that i do
but wait, now i can't see you at all

my angel of doom, you always said you'd bring me down
and i laughed cheerfully instead
i am the living ghost of a goddess you dreamt up in my image, so very long ago
and even she had flaws

i will never be what you want me to be
i can never be what i want me to be
at least you have other options

but i am tired of hating myself each day i'm not her
i am tired of the lies i borrow from your lips, just to put that smile together
i am tired of the hope you plant in my soul so i can face another day, for another moment playing hangman with you
only to remember
you could be painting the moon with someone else.

.orion times three.

 .dreams cut loose may be hazardous to homework.

.can you see my mirror in your mirror?
eight lines separate the world.
kaleidoscope shards make a wormhole for hearts that know no better than to tumble into and out of place, thrown from souls into space, with no purpose but shapes to be changed forever.
.can your burn my flame in your fire?
nothing's ever complete when you desire. perspective is caught in the wink of an eye, from amongst sparks rising from the pyre, creating patterns, leaping higher and higher, with no purpose but to be entire in a never-ending sky.
wink of an eye, and then it is lost.
.can you be a map and not a maze?
this is but just another phase, with no purpose but to disengage the staticity if the earth stops moving. but what if the earth stood still and the lines curled round? and a little boy's xylophone was the only sound, all dreams would learn to stand their ground, and fling away the barriers. eight lines tumbling into and out of place until they're maps, and not a maze, and they throw back the shards till they're spinning inwards again, and they slow down, and tilt back once, twice...and tip over into the other side.

.sleep-waking.

.she stays.

.the sky is burning
i can hardly wait to see what it's been hiding
let the fire engines race to it, they won't make it
let the stars fall onto my arms
as the flames release them from the web above
and as they land
they will sink in and show me who i am
and where i belong
they are lined up on the shelf
now hold me tight
and let them lead the way
i watch them play on your palms
and i know
we're not going anywhere
we've lived our lives around this moment
i've just been acting stupid
now i know
and i need something to keep my hold on reality
the sky is calling
it can hardly wait to see what i've been hiding.

.Khionê.

.i see you with black feathers too.

.eyes closed. eyes open.
i feel the waves in me when you're breathing
subtle movements in tangled raw silk
fall from the sky, before you wake up
hold fast my last dream, lest it break up
hand closes around ray of sun
not before it blinded me and opened my eyes
might forgotten lives be recalled?
could it be my soul they enfold
those velvet wings that your fingers withhold
you've been my shadow before
you've swallowed me whole before
you've slipped away outside this mirror before
and let it spill out of these crevices in my heart
stretch out your arms
and their black cloud extensions will bring it all back
come, bring it with you to the shore
my love, we aren't lost anymore.