Garth Rakumakoe

Dry Red

Take me

to that place, dry red

only you and I know of

invisible, to this earthly world

That place where

foregone stars roam freely,

hosting thine perfumed aroma

 

Spill over my forlorn garment

of silence and solitude

and stain its garden soil 

with your luscious kiss

imbued in floral hints, plum

and berry hues

 

Like paper, crumple my resist

Flick the light to my slow burn

and in my relent to ashes

scatter me, over the oceans

atop crafted ivory notes

and call me back

to the still waters

of my acquired self

in rediscovery, lost

in delectable sonics, lest I go

and not come back

 

Lest I slit my wrists, take me

to that place again

where you and I only

know the merlot intimacy

of man and song

 

Make me bold, lessen

the haunt of my secrets

and troubles, be my trumpet

be my trombone, be my cello,

piano, and magnolia

Heaven knows I live best

when I forget, in musicality

In escape!

 

Encapsulate me, ruby red

Take me again

to the moon and back

as in this abyss

of low jazz, and my darkened room

I wander, aimlessly, into the night

decadent, purple, and all yours

to seduce