Sunday, January 19, 2014

Last Bottle of Veuve

sucks dreams into the
Bottle where fear hides
Thanatos reaches inside my throat,
 His long spindly fingers cork it.
Heart racing, head clouding.
Avoiding his eyes in public as a secret lover.

In reflections on shop windows grinning like Baron Samedi,
I see his face.
But I hear his voice
Inside my skull, his voice, the scream of angry wolves.
My full chest implodes.
In the dark of night,
 where all is really seen
The bottle expands
Bubbles press on glass
My ribcage stretches
I push and punch and wait
Fighting to keep it closed
But there I am, alone with Thanatos.
He comes like a suitor,
Slow and shy
Then demanding and possessing.
The bottle comes uncorked
Storms, mushroom clouds, judgments, failures
So I put it away - waiting for that special occasion
When all wear black and look away,
When we will be together in the light of day.

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