Dark Poetry Prose Poetry August 23, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

8-23-05 thuesday 8:36pm

in silver streams of partial consciousness. the day doesn't rise, but rather treads. eyes and nose just above the surface of an immense expanse of sinking darkness.

in the pauses which dictate the moments to surround them. memory filters in such a way that lovers are loves. and strangers again friends.

in the almost clear mind that frets with an infant day crying in its arms. it's easy to disguise. to confuse. whose screams are whose.

to wake up. to not embrace, but to take hold of it nevertheless. because it's dropped into your arms. pieces at a time. and as fragile as you feel, it's much more fragile yet.

08-23-05 tuesday 9:21pm

with eyes reeking of deception the mirror sees. with numb fingers love touches. all trust parcelled by backdoor hearts and obsequious thieves. to the measure of solitude and the pinnacle of apathy.

by no left gaze nor contemptible caress does the flesh become frozen. that is its permanent state. that no friction nor fire from any kind of lover will ever soften.

with organs that vibrate at exponential speeds the temperature rises, yet the center can feel no heat. every desire draped in silken promise. cool and slippery.

the taste of the past fermenting on the tongue. tepid and sour. as yet another meal is foraged from ones previously digested. with heavy fork and empty stomach.