long and lost

i thought of you the other night as i drove back from the grocery store. i searched for you among the crowd, but everyone seemed to have your haircut. and a song came on the radio that reminded me of old times, with old friends, driving around our small town and drinking stale coffee and playing cards. i seems so long ago, because i am truly another person. or, maybe, i am the same person but have traveled through many bodies since then. it was past midnight and the packed car sang in unison. and i heard it again on the radio and i sang with it, longingly, remembering our friendship, remembering your laugh and how you brought me to this city. i miss you, my friend. are you making music somewhere, practicing in your plaid shirt? are you eating guacamole in a small restaurant or typing on the computer? are you holding your girlfriend's hand? you told me we were once flying a hot air balloon, but you refused me the details. was it a striped balloon? and where were the lions? the song ended and i wanted to call you, but i don't keep your number close to me anymore. i have my littered memories and the wonder of the present and i will look for you. whatever you are, i hope you are well. i truly hope you are well.

the reality of my face is a distant murmur.

lips have turned into dots, eyes are small circles. there is a slit

on the center of my upper lip.

this strange form, the clump of mass

standing before a mirror, talking to an illuminated

silouette. nothing is recognizable, cheeks, lips, hair, the

distorted expression of sadness and shock, weary and alien. the dark, ever present black circles glow in the yellow light of the bathroom.

trapped between retreat and movement. open and out, crawling through the small cave within me left from another chamber...into the water, a cool pool awaits, perhaps.

bells jingle and i am tumbled back into the skin. strange, not my own. none of these molecule collections are mine, stored out of human habit and expectation.

the eyebrows continue to furrow, only digging the forehead line a little deeper, adding more angry character to this jew. the monster continues to find ways to escape, to make any sweet moment shrink from joy. it sucks on smiles and beauty. it rapes understanding, violently thrusting its hungry mouth into wakefulness. no, hiding from its fury and strength only calls its name, a multitude of sounds. it hears when all is silent, when hands are tightly holding my neck, bringing me to life. death brings me closer to the breath of these pink lungs, struggling to catch the whispers roaming though these ears.

once more, for we are clouded.

can i play upon your lips?

drum out a tune on the grand piano, set so gently on the upper lip

swinging on the thick black vines rooted to a delicious face,

my moist naked body curls among the tendrils, climbs the twisting mass towards sweet white skim.

what is not covered is absorbed by my tongue, monstrous hunger consumes the

ghost of desire. her brown eyes are closed, while a red mouth searches for the taste of

salt and sweat and urine.

the capacity for a satiation has been dissolved, thrown into the pit of awakening.

there it will remain until the machine has been wrangled, spanked, thrown into obediance,

domination, understanding.

may i have another?

a hand catches speed, its velocity mounting, increasing energy, delivering punishment.

I want never to forget our meeting, going in two opposing directions- on two different trains. We communicated- something more real than words will ever have the power to describe. Friend, if we don't meet again- thank you.