Burning blue kisses.A Poem by Lee W. Deason
I can't taste it in my dreams.
A safe place, no chances. For failure or incomprehension. I've seen this once before, open and metallic. Where the instruments are always sharp. And the performance immaculate. The physical body, now seen so tabulate. Numbers and decimals. Days and hours. Minutes before the arrival of sanity. Impatient body, rest. How are you alive? Without the sound, of breathing next to you. No body to hold on to, I fear I might slip away. To a dark place in the night, beginning another fight. Fight for your life. In the three ring circus of demolition. In the human condition, without sedation. Pain before action, mental distraction. If I were you, I'd wear my Kevlar. To sleep again, standing open. Standing in front of that speeding car. I never see it happen, only the scars. They will remind me, of the cosmic blue. The burning I always see in blue. It's you, coming through to meet me. Without the sound, of breathing next to you. No body to hold on to, I fear I might slip away. To a dark place in the night, beginning another fight. Against the shadows, the clinical hollow. Evil little cats, will dance and prance. Around the sacrament, his lament. The physical hollow, where you fit in. Where the instruments are always sharp. Poking the sensitive spots. And the performance immaculate. Cut to thin ribbons. The physical body, now seen so tabulate the numbers and decimals. If not for the burning blue. The burning I see in you. I wouldn't be alive. Without the burning blue. The burning I see in you. I won't last long. © 2008 Lee W. DeasonFeatured Review
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