To Have Existed in an Untouchable Room
A fair faced frau emerges and departs, locking an enigmatic door behind her.
So I dreamt about the essence and life on the other side in a wild vision where we were fonder.
A sacred space. Forbidden, untouchable by me
until it wasn’t any longer.
Sanctimonious constraints broken and deserted by meteoric love and lust.
Unspeakable and inexpressible.
As enchanting as the butterfly’s burning wing. As complex as a Nepalese mandala.
Simultaneous knocking of an unfavored reality from outside.
But with you, in this now eclipsed room, it’s all real. It’s all possible. In our universe I confide.
The dark is for feeling not seeing or hearing or thinking in excess.
For forgetting time’s rules and tomorrow’s duels
But our favorite part was the fall of this long, vexing dress
to the floor where our cold bare feet stomped and danced.
Our continuous song surging through every expanse
yet rather quietly
so as not to distract the passing hearsay birds from their natural tune of conformity.
What does that room feel like now?
Is it empty or normal or have you allowed my energy to stay the way I have with yours in me?
Do you feel me in the crevices of the floors and in the arches of open doors where I’d stand watching you sleep?
Does my scent linger in complicit red sheets or is a new one succeeding?
While I wonder these things my skin pulsates with the lasting impression of you. Everlasting dreams of a now unreachable room.