Dream for me, my love, as the focus of my mind wears thin.
The lights and the sights have taken toll upon my soul.
I find my eyes flitting hither and fro.
My fingers precariously stretched, palms exposed…
As if waiting for a barrage of primordial blows
Stemmed of any and all directions.
My life, albeit fickle, has found its way here.
It tickles me to be alive.
Yet, it is only that faint, annoying tickle… lacking engage.
And then, in a moment,
on a stage set beyond my own nail and hammer,
i stammer at the possibilities fraught with potential.
To be afforded a part in this play, my being is warmed by that fire
Known only as desire.
This spark has harkened me, and to it…
i have heeded.
Once again, i have given of myself
In a manner most would consider selfless.
A manner which i know only to be the ultimate exhort of the self, selfishness.
My love, hold this for me,
my anger, wrath, hatred, sadness, betrayal, and the like.
For i need them no longer.
None can embrace me, i know, as this feeling now has.
None can measure it’s worth within my soul.
None can be known by me in this moment.
My life, it’s structure and unmovable bearing,
have been granted the respect of their cause.
I am… essentially and justly, who i am.