i’ve never been afraid of the dark,
nor of the moon.
i always knew better than that
because your eyes would show me the way
and light up the gloomiest nights
i’ve never been afraid of the moon,
yet three days in a row i see this dream,
she’s saying that she wants to sink her white teeth into me,
my skin,
flay me for good.
saying she could
take me so far, galaxies and galaxies away
and i’m aware of that
i know the craters of the thoughts i never listened to
will one day find me here
there’s nothing near,
black holes full of white noise,
and everything is so, so close,
i’m reaching out again
when will i find those traces of dim memories locked by mistake in my reddened, shameful heart?
when will i step on the tail of my soul and grip the throat of my dreams?
i’m sitting on the floor,
Bukowski said to wait for it to come.
i’m waiting,
patently biting my nails, talking to my headache
it’s a vague reality
and i know so little, almost never enough
when i let her in to engulf me
i’m becoming a part of something bigger,
getting my vision back
so i can write again
so i can try
so i can stumble over these words
and do another somersault