The last strain of light enters his eyes.
Like a tired butterfly, he flutters his eyelids.
Fervently keeping his senses unbroken;
to stretch the fuming beauty of the afterglow.
But again the light drains from his eyelids,
as the woods of slumber call upon his waking.
He runs his fingers upon the contours
of her angelic face as it presses
upon his firm bosom.
Her hair smells of meadows, and her skin
reeks of sweat and love.
He kisses her plump lips as he closes his eyes.
His vision of her beauty vanishes
into the blanket of darkness;
as he elopes from the luminosity
of the waking worlds..
He wakes up walking upon a horizon,
while the sun cries its fire across the waters.
He continues to walk the thin line
that separates the sky from the ocean.
At first he doesn’t understand;
How can someone walk on a horizon?
He stops for a while to witness
the enchanting beauty of the sunset.
But as he stands upon the uncharted divide,
his vision blurs into a gurgling blue.
Soon enough he sees mermaids rushing,
twirling; creating circles of gliding hues.
Their blissful musings lull
the tenement corners of his mind..
Musing.
Musing.
Musing.
Their beauty is as angry as the charging tides;
and as glaring as the eloquent moonlight.
Captivated he tries to touch their silken glow,
but then a wild whirlpool drags his body away.
Away from the ocean, away from the watery heavens,
away from their beauty…
He now walks a familiar meadow of shadowy skies.
He feels like he is inside a black-and-white reel.
A barren tree seemingly awaits him;
waiving its bare twigs to the cold rustling wind.
With peculiar anticipation he sees the woman
siting underneath the tree;
with eyes sultry and toes curled.
She wields a rusted sword housed in a wooden sheath.
He approached her and she pulls him towards her body.
In a solemn whim they kiss; tongues coiling and
legs intertwined, he feels the heat of his entrails
budge the walls of his own shell.
And with rhythmic heartbeats he enters her;
and as he reaches his ecstatic peak the woman stabs him
with the rusted sword…
Sweet pain.
Beautiful demise.
Dazed he sees the tree bend its branches,
covering his world into a dark dominion…
He wakes up inside someone’s heart.
He knows this because of the beating.
Beating.
Beating.
Beating.
He recognizes every thump and rush
of blood within the ventricle he is in.
He closes his eyes and lets the wave
of scarlet rivers heave his body.
He wakes up soaring above the skyline.
The lights flicker like fireflies.
They gleam with life as they shape shift
from the peripheral zone of his eyes..
He ascends further into the skies
and reaches the stars.
Sparkling.
Sparkling.
Sparkling.
Like spiders sparkling on velvet cloth,
he catches them and keeps them in his pockets
before descending upon the cold earth.
He lands on a sandy shore slumbering
under the light of a million suns.
The sloshing of kindred waves caress him
as he smiles at the beauty of the clouds.
Clouds.
Clouds.
Suns.
Skies.
From the warm rushing tides he sees
a great leviathan of leaden skin;
hurtling through the gargantuan waves.
And from his panoramic view a battle
is about to transpire;
between the raging sea serpent and
the daring crew of Norse warriors.
Stone-hearted Vikings weilding axes,
hatchets, and broadswords ----
the smell of blood is in the air.
And all glory will be weighed and tested.
He watches in awe as the beautiful clash
of courage and domination unfolds
right before his eyes.
And then...
The whirpool drags his soul again toward oblivious realms.
And within the spiraling crucible of liquid sapphire,
he sees everything.
The mermaids.
The olden tree.
The Woman.
The kiss.
The Sword.
The wound.
The skyline.
The stars.
The heart.
The rushing blood. The clouds.
The Million Suns.
The Serpent.
The Warriors.
Seconds pass.
The first strain of light enters his eyelids.
He feels the warm embrace of silken cloth.
He sees her eyes glisten like morning due
as they stare at him with ardent passion.
He opens his eyes completely.
He stretches the wringles on his face
as a smile protrudes from his facade.
The woman who has the voice of Mermaids;
The woman who has the eyes
that stood the test of time
as an olden tree would endure;
The woman whose passion burns and slithers
like a sword slicing through flesh;
The woman who has the kiss paralyzes and resurrects
his fragile spirit;
The woman whose wounds bleed through his heart;
The woman who can make him feel like he can fly
and hold stars as they explode on his palm;
The woman whose spirit shines brighter than
a million suns;
The woman who has the courage of a thousand
valliant Norsemen;
The woman whose heart has become his solitary home..
The woman.
"This woman", he whispers.
They both disappear within the sheets as the morning sun
erupts its infinite arms upon their momentary world.
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