Heronious Days, Heronious Nights - Rebecca S. Rajswasser
Oh God, do I crave you!
I crave you,
So I call you, and we talk.
Your voice is like honey.
Like tea with lemon and honey
Stirred up just right to soothe my sore voice box;
Smooth, warm, syrupy, and soothing.
But we hang up and it wasn't enough.
The craving is deep and raw and hot,
Like an itch that won't go away.
I touch myself and think of you.
Release let's me sleep
So I can forget you're far away
And dream.
Out on the streets in the sweaty, sultry, night,
I thrill at the thought of walking this walk with you,
And the craving is back.
I breathe in deep,
Reaching out far,
To all the heavens.
As if I could breathe in deeply enough
To bring you to me.
As if when I finally breathe out again
You might materialize beside me
And take me in your arms.
It doesn't work.
I buy cigarettes and bottled water
And head up the stairs to the subway platform.
On the train,
A woman is being saved by a Sister of Salvation.
She is casting out demons,
And I wonder for a moment,
If she could draw one into me.
Could she bring you to me,
Through my breath,
Like I tried to on the street?
Could she turn you into my Dybbuk?
My demon-dream lover from far away?
With a mischievous giggle,
A boy dumps sand out of his shoes,
Remnants of a magical day at the beach.
With an exasperated breath,
I dump the craving from my soul,
Shake it out, Shake it off.
Oh God, do I crave you!
I crave you,
So I call you, and we talk.
Your voice is like honey.
Like tea with lemon and honey
Stirred up just right to soothe my sore voice box;
Smooth, warm, syrupy, and soothing.
But we hang up and it wasn't enough.
The craving is deep and raw and hot,
Like an itch that won't go away.
I touch myself and think of you.
Release let's me sleep
So I can forget you're far away
And dream.
Out on the streets in the sweaty, sultry, night,
I thrill at the thought of walking this walk with you,
And the craving is back.
I breathe in deep,
Reaching out far,
To all the heavens.
As if I could breathe in deeply enough
To bring you to me.
As if when I finally breathe out again
You might materialize beside me
And take me in your arms.
It doesn't work.
I buy cigarettes and bottled water
And head up the stairs to the subway platform.
On the train,
A woman is being saved by a Sister of Salvation.
She is casting out demons,
And I wonder for a moment,
If she could draw one into me.
Could she bring you to me,
Through my breath,
Like I tried to on the street?
Could she turn you into my Dybbuk?
My demon-dream lover from far away?
With a mischievous giggle,
A boy dumps sand out of his shoes,
Remnants of a magical day at the beach.
With an exasperated breath,
I dump the craving from my soul,
Shake it out, Shake it off.
VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
lovely, stasia...
*sigh* I like the Pablo Neruda from yesterday. It brings me back to high school and long lost loves. I went to a talk by Antonio Scarmeta (chilean poet wrote Paciencia Ardiente which became 'Il Postino') about Neruda as a first date. Who knew what a simple caress of the hand there would take me...