Saturday, 5 December 2009

How I think of You

Think of your most sacred song.
Think now your most cherished thoughts,
Your most closely dreamed dreams about who you are.
Think of that which you would bleed and kill for.
Think of whatever it is
That would make you happy to face death.
Think about how it makes you lose your breath.
About how you become impatiently inspired,
Waking up smiling in utter darkness.
Think about how it makes your skin turn to flames,
And your tongue twitch with the possibilities of taste.
Think about how this feels,
And how it cannot be expressed.
Think of this, because this is how I think of you.

Friday, 4 December 2009

Give to Me Your Hurts

Give to me your hurts.
Give to me the fragilities
And the rejections,
The hostilities
And the disappointments that have
Drenched your heart all these years.

Give to me any reservations
You have about opening up your chest like the sun,
And letting your honesty pour
Like heaven’s laughter.
Give to me any remains of your damaged skin,
Unclothe yourself of the uniforms
And the fashions you have hidden yourself in.

Give to me anything
That has become precious but useless,
Your superstitions and your attachments.
Give to me your shameful secrets,
Those wordless terrors
That cripple the purity of your voice.

Give to me anything
Which convinces you
That you need me.
And I will show you
Nothing else
But your own feathered beauty.