THE REQUIEM OF DREAMS
The requiem of my dreams can never be
for how can I relinquish images of you and me in eternal effigy?
Our hearts and minds the fruit of the same tree.
We can fight over moving eyes or money not to
I can not think of a moment that I do not want thee.
On some of my days, I am a flower,
that creates nectar only because you are there to drink it.
how lucky I am to feel your sweet lips as you devour me.
On other days, I am a dreamer
who can not find her dreams.
My dreams are sometimes underneath
mounds of earth or broken glass
I lunge with groping hands
but can not always touch them.
My dreams are sometimes in my belly
soft, blue and fleshy
I probe with wanting eyes
but can not always see them.
My mind knows where they are,
and takes me to your sleeping bed
where I feel them when you breathe.
You read me your words
those swelling inside you
For 6 months
Out they come
spewing your sorrow
like tar on my body
If I stay perfectly still
If I say nothing
perhaps you wonít notice
How the muscles in my body
in my heart
I canít breathe
Perhaps you wonít notice
That Iíve noticed
your futureless face
Maybe youíll think itís alright.
Is art like a garden?
Planted by a woman
Watered by her
Yielding fruit for only her?
Is art like a mirror?
How many lines are in your face?
How many mistakes can you trace?
What desires do you embrace?
Is art for the world?
Look how wonderful I am
Try to figure me out if you can
Thousands of years past
You tell me whatís true
Paintings of people and hunting
On your caveís dark walls
Why have you put them there?