within

do not bring me sunlight in a glass, or breathe
a mouthful of rainbow in between
my lips, instead hook
my little finger with your little
finger and have us slip through
the slits of a crowd of curtains and out
of our castle, out
of its stale shadows, stumbling onto
the palm of night, into
its breathing shadows, and
i will be alive.

have your eyes feast with mine upon the naked
sky that knows no limit to
neither her size nor her shame, have
your bare feet romance as mine with
the shifting mists that hide treasures far
greater than pearls beneath the tide, far
lovelier than diamonds in the womb of far
mountains, far deadlier
than the sun, and
i will be alive.

if you do all this, i think i will love
you more, i will love more
the contrast of my pale fingers swimming
through the midnight of your hair, i
will cherish the contest of my pale
skin against the ivory of your skin, i
will fall for the way my little
finger hooks with your little
finger: gentle as a twilight's whisper, yet
tighter than any bond, closer
than any embrace, as pure
as the night of nights, and
i will be.

now, do not speak and do not dream, never
dream, not within this dream, and be
alive with me a little breath
longer: have your skin
remember with mine the long forgotten
taste of a dying night, have
your mind listen with mine to
the war song of an invading day, and
fade with me, die with me, fall
with me past a crowd of curtains onto
the waiting shadows, and
i will be

with nothing but the taste of
a mouthful of silence.

2007.jan.4