I was a twang in the twist of your tongue,
But bittersweet stole my butterscotch from your lips
And left you panting,
Afraid, and wanting more.

You were shores of silence breaking through my colossal waves,
And your oarsmen got lost in my loamy sea,
Held seashells to their ears trying in vain to call home,
And drowned this side of infinity.

I told you tales of old and you spun stories out of sunbursts.
Yet, something decayed, and
You pulled away, and I rushed to find you in that
Den of quietude where you retreated,
But I found you ensconced behind great battlements–
No fields were seeded that Spring
As the king slept,
Defensive behind those massive stone walls.

I watched your drawbridge, awaiting a lowering,
But no invitation came even after my soldiers
Raised a white flag.
Finally, I gave up waiting and left you to your dusty halls
Full of memory echoes and ghosts of past.
For a brief burst, we’d made stories  with
shadows on silkscreen, powders and sheepskins.
But we are done, sir.

My sign would always be a throbbing vein, you know.
I push people past comfort and confront them with
Whatever demons they have lurking within.
I am a mirror to reflect you,
Not a soul to reject you
Because I see me in you.
I was in your eyes, and your teeth were in my chest,
But I bared my breast and white knuckled the steering wheel
Because I had to touch something within me, within you,
That I’d given up
And thought lost forever.

I saw the sun in you.
I panicked.
I retreated to the outer edges of your solar system and
waited for your supernova.

You expanded and contracted toward the end of the cycle,
And I thought for a brief moment that you would explode,
But you backed off and relaxed, first pushing me
Far enough away that I would not die in your final fury.
But I was the calm in my own storm,
the great zone of avoidance in my universe,
And my dark matter absorbed your anger and
Gave back life.

I am the wellspring of creation,
The embodiment of the feminine force.
I am your satisfied night-sigh,
Whether you sleep by my side or another,
And I pray my presence did not detract,
From your crystallized layers of meaning
Within my life’s geological structure.

You think you are a fallen star.
I think you are one yet to rise.