It was driving me crazy.
I couldn’t stand the teasing anymore,
the eternal seductiveness,
so I fabled right through the roof
and into the capacious night-sky
to be with the stars, those luminous coquettes
and avatars of celestial elegance,
on whom I’ve had a crush
since god knows when.
I need to be with you,
I screamed myself blue and hoarse,
as I ascended fast
but not fast enough
for what I imagined would
be the tryst to end all trysts,
a liason which would thoroughly exempt me
from mortal fetters and worldly considerations.
An abstract longing to know pure feeling,
and grow texturally intimate with realms unseen,
had followed me straight out of the womb
and into this worldscape, an unsayable something
which had formed and remained
a clawing tenant in the heaven section of my gut,
and though I had scored my life with a litany of haunts
and diversions, no more! the time had come
to fable, untethered, nonstop, into the raven-gloss pools
of nightsky, and to bring the metaphysical yes yes yes
back to impossible consummation.
I am, at present, still ascending,
while the stars continue dispatching signals
to guide me toward the pinwheeling whorls of white fire
and etheric milkbaths.
There is nothing quite like the lore of universal attraction,
its magnetic sway not for the faint of heart.
In drawing nearer and nearer to my heart’s desire
beyond known desire,
I pray to shed gracefully my mortal coils,
and find myself, unabated,
a natural kink in the inviolable symmetry
of spatial breadth and lay,
i.e., a lovesick orphan
coursed to home
and cosmic parlay.