prison

written 8 March 2007 copyright © 2007-present James Sanghyun Han (a.k.a. steal this and DIE)


he stood fully submerged
in the subtle layer after sunset and before stars
one leg planted on the curb like a lamppost
one leg hanging over the edge like a scarf

the simplest thing
but to my exhausted eyes he seemed to be floating
conquering the weight of the dying light
with an intrinsic obliviousness

and this is how i survive my days
filtering reality's constant siege through illusions of grandeur
sinking down to the depths of the dream world
where sweetness is ominous
where smiles reveal fangs
where flight is possible but still erratic
where seawater becomes gem-like and breathable
where sex is always too good and too short
where fields of grass are littered with body parts
where one's shame is advertised in large, scarlet letters
where the love of your life is visible but maddeningly out of reach
where you aren't sure if it's good for you to remain or flee

and from these inexplicable depths i look up to the surface
up through the moist, mutable prism
the translucent prison where i've made refuge
and i observe the siege as it distorts
stretching and heaving on the interface of water and air

and as he stood there fully submerged
i raised myself out of the lake, waded past him and found his eyes
he was young enough that i felt my age
but old enough to keep my guilt at bay

and it was the simplest thing
but the bloom of his lips cascaded through my body
retarding the desiccation of my dormant heart
with a surge of blood and promise

and this is how i survive my days
filtering reality's constant siege through illusions of grandeur
his eyes were repulsively vacant
but his mouth begged invasion
and i wanted to sink with him down to the depths of the dream world
safe from the siege
where refuge is translucent
where sweetness is ominous
where it's always too good and too short
where flight is possible but maddeningly out of reach
where seawater becomes gem-like and breathable
where you aren't sure if it's good for you to remain or flee
where everything distorts and heaves under a moist, mutable prism

and where the simplest things conquer the weight of the dying light
and everything seems to be floating


Autobiographical Fun
Ganymede's Library
Ganymede's Palace