Why does your face…
Call to me through the Veil
Bleeding out the death of
Who I’d thought to be
Why does your haunting dreadfully—
Lovely voice dance speaking to me
Beneath at least 33 layers of
My inner skins…
Why do you feel like an ALIEN
Who I grew up with in some long-ago-lost
Forgotten cycle of sleepy somber dreams

Why does your soul speak & scream so deep
Beneath My very blood—
Why do your eyes hide nothing of mine
Nor timeless tides dying
Or even the most stark-naked vulnerability
But still I cannot bear them
Save with such grateful tears
Why do I feel like your glorious smile
So brilliant & silken
Is far beyond anything
I could ever dream
When its immutably true that—
All that ever was, will, or must be
Is only the dream of a dreamer—
And so therefore always all inside
Of me….
Why do your earnest mortal reflections
Effect my affect with such terrible profundity
Paradoxically revealing things I’d always never seen…
I mean for Christ fucking sake…
All the Greek sculpture’s…
Merely deathless evidence of
Medusa’s awesome curse
Upon poor Athenians’ mortal coil—?!!?!?

Why does the way YOUR mortal mind’s ponderances
Bring me to my knees mercifully stave off
The true-blue darkest of darker despair
Why do you so sweetly
Reek of everything…
That has to be gentle & pristine
Why do you so brashly smack…
Of such awful— ages before ages-lost…
Magick
Both beautiful but bloodied—
Sealed by sleepless…
Willing sacrificial ritual
Instilled & honored by such grandest traditions—
In timeless and terribly extreme tragedy
Why do you ignite in me reason & belief
Wonder & dignity
Why do I fear such truer truths:
That standing naked before you
I am so ugly… but in my honest vulnerability
I stand cleanly and beautifully to you
Why...