the conjugation of myself (92?)

I

look

over my shoulder and into my past

my hands fluttering in the air

i threw down the words as soon as they entered my mind

grabbing and hurling them from me

i threw the words onto paper

so that my hands would not be burned

i had always understood my past as if it were an open picture book

the book was full

there were chapters of recriminations

footnotes of apologies

flowing explanations with numeric listings

all in alphabetical order

an index of sarcasms

a table of sobs and cries

there were all of the things that i had been meaning to say

listed carefully

waiting for the occasion

which was always there

i knew that book so well

had it all down

memorised

quoting my favorite passages by heart

there was no aspect unforeseen

no idiosyncrasy undefined

i felt a need to break this tyranny

a longing for sheets of clean white paper

but i saw myself too often

my fear of heights kept me immobilised

frozen like snow in the back of the freezer

when i did feel warmth it was meagre

almost cheapened of its very essence

II

now come around

stand with your chest rising against my spine

looking towards my future

having broken the binding of the book

pages are strewn upon the ground

i am speaking in liquid tongues of flame

the words of the book will burn

leaving only so many insignificant ashes

i will kiss the spilling stars

and if you are there

the words will strike your brow

and leave no more than a smudge

a trace of nearly forgotten filth

the words have no more meaning

they are weak

almost below my notice

blind and mute

no sweet sounds will spill

from the black and empty gorge of my throat

no light can be seen in my clouded eyes

only the tarnished glow of bitterness

rolling out and falling pas my lips

my future is an automaton of destruction

an unthinking obliteration of my own language

there is no hope

only foul smelling smoke

pouring from my mouth

and slipping from between my teeth

III

and now take my hand and feel my present

there are no senses here

there is no need for them

there is only the knowledge

beyond and more than the words

the thought

never explained

the glance

seen from the corner of the eye

the possibility of an encouraging smile

the probability of a love

unmentioned but felt

the fluttering of a wind against my cheek

i lay in bed savouring the thought of you beside me

your hand in mine

your breathing my only music

my only prophecy of what is to come

your skin is my only shelter for tomorrow

and i want no more

my head turns towards yours

looking at your eyes

which are my only hope of salvation

i feel the heat of your body

inviting me on a voyage

already begun

evercontinuous

a voyage without paths or destinations

and the circle of my extended arms

forms the only answer which i could ever give you