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:thumb271176198: hungerwritten ©1997
What do you do when visions of beauty leave you hungry?
When the touch of a flower feels like the sword of suicide?
What do you do when a moment of intimacy leaves you desperate for conquest?
When you can't distinguish between love and ownership?
What do you do when you reach from behind the tunnel of your eyes
And find only a black hole of meaninglessness,
Yet you still want to believe in the world?
The dark questions drown me,
The answers are prisons of joy.
Silence lies in wait,
A chameleon:
One minute,
Peace;
The next, a dry well in a desert of words.
I am slumped over in a coward's dance
The dogs of righteousness at my throat
Driving me through a swamp of embarrassed self-reproach towards an empty purity.
For a moment I find joy in the touch of another,
A stranger's eyes: An ointment,
But my smile hides the prison doors.
Then,
A figure stands in darkness,
A living blackness sucking light into infinity,
A sensuous emptiness binds me.
Helplessness held at the thre :thumb266217577:

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