I want to see you as you are,
the one who holds me in my cold loneliness
holds me like an creature in a dungeon.
I want to wake up from this old dream,
to draw in air as a living person does,
to shed this Gothic Chill
that has black nails in my spine,
that has teeth sunk into my chest,
sucking blood from my heart.
You, Dark Lover, you cast no shadow,
no mirror reflects you, and in the space
of intimate indulgence you exclaimed
my words were like elegant gargoyles filled with blood,
and my teeth-marks, like hot tracks across your ass,
brought you to erotic heights of fantasy & passion
sin & godlessness.
Oh how the shrill of your voice darkened the sky
when you screamed: I deny God’s existence! Then
under that darkness, with tears the color of red roses,
you slid your pale nakedness, foaming at the thighs,
over my pulsing phallus,
and your high breasts, your eyes, your skin,
your long dark hair, your whole body, burst into flames,
and my hands lay open catching your quiet ashes.
Into the darkness I blew the ashes from my hands
and they floated like sad blessings that died a sudden death.
After the ash settled its weight upon the face of mortality,
I heard the suffering beauty of violins taking my weeping
to the next octave.
Still, I want to see you, again & again … lover …
the one who holds me in my cold loneliness.
This poem was first published in ‘Poets Of Blood, Vol. 1’
Editor: J.E. O’Hara
©dah / dahlusion 2009
all right reserved