Distant in the way
That memories can be.
The way that dreams
...Sometimes are.

This is you.
A memory and a dream
Neither...
Can I hold too close.

And so I watched you.
The way you move.
Like liquid...smooth, flowing
And I wished to be the mouth
That drinks you.

I remember you...
Smokey eyes of charcoal blue.
The neon beasts that hovered
Overhearing memories.

I touched you...
And the music became louder.
Your instruments were in my head
And you played splendidly.

Freight trains...and you
Rumbled through me
And my breath was stolen
Like the box-car
You have jumped upon.

You rode me over hills
And through the cities
Past the poverty and mansions
You became the coal that fed me.

In the early hours while you slept
Your breaths were slow and deep
And I laid my head upon your chest
Falling into your rythym.

As you stirred before the morning
I gently caressed your skin
Over muscles I could almost see
Like those beneath the ebony coat
Of the Panther I watched as a child.

Silence filled the morning
Until the church bells rang
And floating on the air
The voices rose.

The angels sang in praise
From a distance so near
That it came from within
And so I fell
...In silent awe of God's Creation.