Tangled

Tangled

"Baby, it's 3 a.m. I must be lonely... well, I can't help but be scared of it all sometimes... - "3 a.m.," Matchbox 20

I want it all:

Your blood of hot chili peppers

Surging under sunburnt skin,

You sliding into me with the undulating roll

Made by the grinding hips of a thundering samba rhythm;

Your wild waterfall of jet curls

Washing over my white sand beach of skin,

Flowing ever downward, laving me

In a rain of soft, dark sensation

And backwashing warm, salty waves

Of seawater through my fingers.

Your mouth of live coals

Burning off the cold front blowing in

From the polar ice of my blue lips,

Igniting bushfires in the savannas of my body,

Kindling my driftwood eyes

To leaping points of red flame

And singeing the scrolled parchment of my soul;

Your scent of pine forests and musk,

The cedarwood incense of your man-smell

Curling up like smoke in the named temple of my bones,

Anointing the epicenter of these arms and legs

Where we commune in the most sacred of rites;

Your long craftsman's hands

Fashioning me in a filigree of

Gold tracery on a platinum core

And polishing away the years as if they had

Never passed through his body, this space,

As if they never were;

The long, muscled pillars of your legs,

Strong and ageless redwoods, sliding, supple,

Over and between mine and through the sweat beneath us

Until, torso to torso, we skydance

Into the pantheon of lovers-turned-deities

Where we will set fire to galaxies

With the blue-flame points of our fingertips

And melt comets in our palms;

The feline glow of your eyes

Watching mine in the dark, pulling away the sheets

By some arcane telekinesis and telexing

Your volcanic thoughts of me.

Yes, I want it all.

And once we've traveled

Past the climaxes of our bodies,

I want-most of all-

The pure, cool spring of your serenity

To slow my heartbeat's sprinting pace

And restore to me

All the dreams that withered

In your absence.

Dawn comes and I want to hold you till

I have it all, have what we came for.

Let the alarm clock ring until it is hoarse

Or smash into gazillion shattered shards

Of dead time frozen in colored plastic.

Let the world hang

And let me have it all.