Mythical Arrangement

Mythical Arrangement

I know I need to keep this locket like a trinket for a topic

To be discussed later with another audience or mirror

Or whichever appears clearer some other day other than this one

Passing without the censure of discernment of what temperament

I should utilize to access the habitual nature of our correspondence

As anything other than a series of conjoining singular experiences

Independent from ever establishing a permanent connection

Or alignment in the confinement of all this blood pumping in such close spaces

The proximity is an end in itself to absolve the acknowledgement

Of all the hells sitting right outside the city gates that will soon enough rampage

Over this sequestered intimacy like a crowd revolting that there was a peace

Between these walls, the vision innate to call me to see you in wishing

Rather than in giving me a side view extracted, like a portrait of a blue bird static

On a branch, landing and magic in the moment of the sun rays as they cascade

On the feathers on the softness of now, knowing the breeze will burst into a bluster

And the foothold will shake into a fluster of gone at the first blink

Knowing these times are just a step that will sink into a nether void of what can not be

Love like a cracked aquarium over oak floors with goldfish gasping for liquid air

The camera too slow to capture the flash of this moment, the aperture speed dulled

And numb a behemoth sledge to club the dexterity of these wings that float away everything

Wanting the sight of you to hold when I know this is all gone, so soon and done

On the backs of this stag riding a transient path over slag and metal and all the other rocks

Trampling the petals of tomorrows with the clutch of today

Why can’t this dream, be not a dream, but a life I could pay?

Could earn like shelter from a storm and pain and safety in embrace in the temperate stay 

To know her and I could be enough if chosen and knowing this is just a mirage

There is no her, no heart in which to infer the reciprocal or the mythical

That I even knew what I was doing, and all this happen stance keeps on spewing

Morning and yawning that tomorrow is dawning and the doom horn sounding

A fantasy world abounding, innocence murdered, aware so well, guilty as a miscreant vagabond