Again ~

Again ~

My fingers gently touch, 

And press into the fissures in my head,

Soft indentures-

Pressed beneath the covers, 

And the measure of a little flame's racing shadow, 

Dances into the headboard, 

Where it collides. 

And sets the background for a fire to be rendered, 

And breeds a hoard of sudden flames.

Fire, fire-

Tongues collide and battle-

Air-borne punches, mark amiss, 

The deep taste of heady bourgeon-

Sensation of hot, prickling skin 

Hair that feels like a dream, a mass that has come-

Swimming into my life . . .

After years spent thinking of mermaids . . . 

In the crook of bed-

Fire, fire, fire!

Give me room to breathe-

I can hear the sound of your sudden whispers, 

Deep-spread, covering up the night like a thick blanket,

And I roll and toss underneath-

But I . . .

Can't breathe.

I listen to the sound of your heart, 

And the quiet drummer of your shy, young girl's soul . . .

Grinning underneath the swimming half-mask,

That I see above me . . .

A mischievous grin-

One that offers with it everything of a devil's promise,

As I grip tightly to your arms, 

And let you read the message from- somewhere underneath my eyelids,

Since you never look straight into my irises . . . 

And then I give a long, ripping scream,

One that flies across the sky and reverberates-

To who knows what kind of recipient . . .

Or, God-forbid, old lady's bedtime prayer,

'Again!'