Methuselah

Methuselah

My eyes are wide open,
yes

I said that they were wide shut,
these ivory airs are opening-

to accommodate this acrid poetic musk-
that feels around like blindness-

Only to slam me to the floor of gravity.
petrichor of words

that we eagerly implore-
with gaping mouths of orchid,

through milky brume,
comes virgin fingertips to line in rows upon a board,
keys fumble to the floor-

perfumed paper dream;
guised as screens-

tempestuous chords,
so fetching!

like nervous lovers fumble to front doors.
I am here,

I want to run,
I want you to come,
No,
maybe I should go?

Or stay and endeavor-

into the heart of a soul
this depth,

I close my eyes tight,
and hold onto my breath,

and walk to your foreign front step-
where your darkened shape awaits
me~

I always wished you'd come,
to find me here a-hiding

in plain sight,

on the precipice of poems,

this ledge of no turning back,
and of no climbing up-
of down,

we met this day of plundering,
sunk into the mud,

the clays of the love,
we found gems and virgs encrusting roots,

That towered high-
to the shoots

of-

Methuselah.