dizzy

she is benediction
she is addicted to thee
she is the root connection
she is connecting with he

here I go and I don't know why
I fell so ceaselessly
could it be he's taking over me...

I'm dancing barefoot
heading for a spin
some strange music
draws me in
makes me come on
like some heroin/e

she is sublimation
she is the essence of thee
she is concentrating on he,
who is chosen by she
here I go and I don't know why
I spin so ceaselessly,
could it be he's taking over me...

[chorus]

she is re-creation
she, intoxicated by thee
she has the slow sensation that
he is levitating with she ...

here I go and I don't know why,
I spin so ceaselessly,
'til I lose my sense of gravity...

[chorus]

(oh god I fell for you ...)
the plot of our life sweats in the dark
like a face the mystery of childbirth, of childhood itself
grave visitations
what is it that calls to us?
why must we pray screaming?
why must not death be redefined?
we shut our eyes we stretch out our arms and whirl on a pane of glass
an afixiation a fix on anything the line of life the limb of a tree
the hands of he and the promise that s/he is blessed among women.

(oh god I fell for you ...)

Do you think she meant "asphyxiation"?

I ache tonight.

It's strange, how the night---the littlest things send me back to that ceaseless spin. At least it is no longer a downward spiral.

I ache tonight. How I crave your voice in my ear, a puff of air, soft hands manipulating my senses---all of them.

I swirl red wine in my glass, it has fine legs. (Not as fine as mine.) I stick my nose in and inhale deeply. It is sweet and rich, like you. Rich as in full you fool. I am no longer full. The words I write echo within me. Like in a vacuum they never fade; they just continue to reverberate.

My mouth tastes like the merlot. And fresh ice cream. I no longer smell like cigarettes, I smell like Calyx and rosemary shampoo. I always imagined you smelled like the ocean, since it was such a part of you; ocean, Tide, and maybe some men's sport deodorant like Right Guard or Gillette. I imagine wrapping my arms around you, late in the afternoon, on the deck or the beach, sliding my hands into the back pockets of your jeans, and pressing my face into your tee shirt and inhaling deeply and hearing your heart beat.

You made me a better person. I felt stronger, smarter... loved. There is such a dearth of soul and spirit around me now. I have to strive much harder to keep from getting pulled down by it. I need so much more. I want so much more. You understood.

The night is so quiet and empty tonight. I look out into the darkness; I seek the stars above my head. There are no wishes to be made.

I just ache.

Addendum:

I was thinking today. The last fantasy I posted, (which isn't done) was about a stranger, and not you. (I might as well keep on addressing you. I had tried to avoid that at the beginning but I keep doing it.) Even my fantasy life mirrors pop-psych culture, as I go out and pick up a total stranger to fuck to try to forget you. ROFL. That really is precious. God help me I wish you could read this.
I do love you so. Peace.