somersaults

 

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