Heart-Plate
People seem to be like a wet dream chasing paper puppets made
of green in-lay; And all their memories orgasm like a nightmare
filled with blood and piss. Some soft skin for the delay, and the
thunder clap of the music that detaches their soul; Till they are
limp bodies. I swim like a mermaid as these light angels drift
around me. My stomach feels like a womb of birth which died
in the arms of the earth that was screaming a last breath of a
phoenix sunset. I played and laid out into your arms soft as music,
delicate as birth, and love was a choosing game. Hanging on the
ceiling of longer worlds we cannot see. The dreams we believe we
belong to but cannot feel are real. And how you ran to be near, and
how quickly we ran blinded. To serve your soul on a plate of gold.
That’s all I eat now, so I’ll starve in a quiet sea. Thinning by days
that absorb the human form into pure light. Even my friends cannot
see me. For I thought; There is only a few people like us; And they
dreamed of them in books, and music. And they didn’t know we
kissed like genius gods. Dangerous. And our love would hollow
all of their tomorrow’s. Oh how wrong we are, filled with language,
desire, and illusive fears that decapitate the five senses; And we are
defenseless gazing into the emptiness that stretches out into all the
happiness in-betweenness. Detached from a soul that we seemed
to have carried from centuries ago. Now all seems unrecognizable.
And what did it all mean? Your beginning.. was like your end.
words and image by Vanessa Matic
