It’s
all coming back so clearly.
This
is what I am meant to do.
I
know it like I know nothing else.
The
words are friends and paramours.
Sentences
like boa constrictors wrap around me till oxygen becomes my halo.
I
must dig deep as my toes smash into the silt and sadness of joy.
Sex
was never at my command not like the art of creation and the creation of God.
Love
an elusive shadow I wax poetic about when losing sight of obedience.
You
always understood where I was at even when this hermit crab was distant like
the ringing of cathedral bells.
It’s
all here for the taking once you unclench your fists and learn to love from
within.
Dreamscapes
freeze me out of my own reality as I get on the bus and ride blindfolded through
my night terrors.
I
will lay this poem down and then I will rest like a koala or harlequin.
Charles Cicirella
2/22/17 
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