sarissa

You think you’re all in when in fact you’re all out, let me close to your soul and drown me in doubt, pernicious cycles of falling in love, and falling without, a safety house, matching sounds of cat and mouse, chasing tail then holding out, wondering whether messages the universe transmits hold any clout, I try to speak thoughts but my voice doesn’t come out, my tongue is moving and silence echoes in my mouth, take my peace and grace to melt that masculine frown, hold you tight and let the angels figure out, a figure eight for eleven seconds of something more than a face in the crowd.

Murky secrets and dirty falls fade through visible mists, taking out each layer climbing over hanging cliffs, like a level up game of crashing matchsticks, all it takes is my name on your chaste lips, an open kiss versus a self contained cypher or a reciprocal gift, sign language and hieroglyphics, that’s how it is, citing independent submissions, forbidding your spirit to live love in commission, a commitment, you give me a print of your residual bliss, when I ask for the original it doesn’t matter how many times I submit, you still think, it’s some subliminal mix, reading signs on spiritual shifts, it’s like I’m a fix when you’re feeling weak I’m tick, variable credit with interest rates fixed, in debt and indebted, tenderness, in deficit.

You have my strength and my esteem troughs in, claustrophobic, circuits shut down knocked out of orbit, you lock me down and don’t even know it, your protection owned it, marked, branded, soul in focus, ushered by maps garnished with poets, an emptiness in the wind with a spirit fully loaded, parted with a clarity faded and eroded, precognition before reality scolds me, disoriented, a test for two, passing colours in indigo and blue, I’m thinking back on how it started with you, skins inside hearts invisible to view.

They say darkness gives you growth but you deplete all my light, when all I’ve done is wait for you my whole entire life, my seclusion is delusional yet you feature so right. Three banded rings, copper, gold and foresight. I only ask for time and it’s something you can’t stick with, lost in notes and fickle syllables, wretched psychles and messages undeliverable. Me, myself and I, speak to a third eye who’s not listening, we converse to speak yet your gravity is sickening. And I’m weak. Who makes me strong in the city of defeat? Holding too tight to predestined seens, sights not felt but having already scened, knowing places we’ve never even been, pasts cut out of values all but washed away clean, happiness in constant streams, it’s all there for the taking if you genuinely believe, I wish you knew what it is that you truly mean.