Water

Water

I’ve been thinking, scatting holy rhythms,
trying to cope, shadows on these walls,
they are as confused as I am.
Walking through paradise,
listening to water roll across these stones,
I saw finite wisdom
carved into the stream,
out of focus to my tired eyes.
For every line written,
I cease to know,
standing in front of windows,
lit smoke,
I dream of tangled messes, and I
can’t understand this
urgency to begin and this
heart to end.
These eyes are haunting me, beautiful grace,
suspended in heaven telling me:
“Look, it’s all there!”

And the rhythms, the rhythms, the rhythms,
and the sound.
I am safe here with your cries of exasperated
orgasms shining like crosses, and god-like breasts.
Embracing in the river,
howling
I want this, like blind men wish for sight.
I want this like how we all suffer.
I seek enlightenment through lowered lips,
reversed entry, going back to where I’ve come from.
I want to hear again:
you.