this is insanity
or is this insanity?
i hate pain
so why in fuck's name do i do this to myself?
i could blame it on astrology
pass it off as my double water-sign tendency to emotional obsession
but i'm not stupid enough to make excuses for my own stupidity
as the traveler in my being
you carve exquisitely painful pathways inside me
from my heart to my thighs to my penis to my brain and back around
and the pathways have become this sticky, bothersome spiderweb
(and guess who's Spiderman)
no matter how many times i brush at it it won't come off
it clings and i enjoy the embrace of this beautiful entrapment
sometimes suffocating, sometimes annoying
but always there
and i always hope that some of your dew will land on this web
this web you and i have unwittingly constructed
this steel-trap web to be interfaced with your dewdrops
the wetness shining in the morning sun, lubricating the silk snare till it evaporates or falls
i hate the fact that i become a liar around you
pretending not to love you
pretending not to worship you
utilizing my Venus-in-Sagittarius to expertly conceal my insane/Scorpio jealousy
pretending that this exponential/symbiotic growth of eros and philia just isn't happening
holding the microphone away from my thoughts
so you can't hear anything but the beginnings of an annoying feedback
ah, but it's useless
i know i never actually say it, but...
my thoughts and wishes glisten in my eyes like a frigging searchlight
to hold your hand in bed while the upper air darkens outside our window
to bury our faces in the hollows of each other's necks as we go to sleep
to run my fingers through your hair as you sigh with happy dreams
to brush that damn eyelash off your cheek and then kiss the swept spot
but this is(n't) insanity
this silky, steel-toothed embrace you and i have unwittingly constructed
i will never get to hold you as the cosmos darkens outside our window
i will never have the power to brush you off my soul
and although it seems like i'm asking for the universe
when i say i want you to satisfy this exponential growth
all i really need to quench my parched corpse is one dewdrop
(for Mike B.)