Post by amelie on Jan 20, 2004 22:53:01 GMT -5
There’s a place I know,
Hard and impacted with sorrow;
No flowers or grass grows there,
But, forever I have been attracted
To put down roots, knowing it
Will not yield to my barren need;
Yet it is a home of sorts.
I can stay ephemeral there
And without definition,
Just a shadow after sunset,
The image left behind the eye
When the lights go out,
And where all my cries
Are softened into melody,
Misted by time and distance.
I sometimes imagine
The devil watches my place,
And it excites with danger,
Like the lift of my skirt
In high wind or the taunt of
A shy one at an orgy.
But he has always been a tease,
Like a half remembered memory
Of something I want to forget,
Ever lurking at my shoulder,
Stalking just beyond sight;
One slip is all I need to make
To make his day.
One day he will knock
And I will let him in,
Knowing, when I open that door,
It cannot be closed again;
They say that Satan
Always refuses to wipe his shoes,
But the greater trespass will be
If he should leave and
Not carry me home with him.
Into the silent place of despair,
An abyss of nothing, but also
Of a peace so tempting
That you cannot resist,
But hurl yourself in
And down and not
Touch bottom forever.
A release of memory and regret,
And as final as when you
Feel your throat slit;
Not dead yet, but inevitable;
Like the anticipation
Of orgasm at the first caress,
Knowing it will happen
But, oh! the getting there.
And to meet once again
The one I lost, not looking
While I wandered
In the place I know,
The place I know
Where the grass won’t grow.
