It’s both dark and light here.
The light takes on the characteristics of the dark and vice versa.
It’s the way things have been since God created Man and Man turned his back on the Son.
We resist what we do not understand and in due time that’s all we’ll have left as another Passion Play is written in blood and our hands are washed in chlorine gas and sniper fire.
There’s no good reason to fight against the ghosts in the machine except that the ghosts today are not the same ghosts from yesterday and when you say Macbeth in a theatre you best be ready for the roof to collapse in on you.
I was just a lonely stagehand when I spied you up on that stage like a nightingale or resistance fighter. The way you carry yourself will forever impress and impregnate the situation with opened ended questions and mixed signals.
I desire to make love to you in the backlot of some nightscape we both know we’ll never escape from.
As I enter you from behind and you moan in ecstasy everything will be as it should be until it’s not and we’re blindfolded and executed for crimes against our vaulted psyches.
You’re the one I always imagined would come to me in the middle of my most prosaic and profound of night terrors. I was covered in sweat and all you were draped in was a towel and your very hot and rhapsodic skin.
The darkness got in my eyes before I attempted to kiss your mouth one final time before the curtain came down and another government is driven from power.
Don’t you believe it when they report on how smooth a transition is going when nothing could be further from the truth and our fractured Democracy is down for a very long and tortuous count?
I’ll never forget when you asked me to lick you from the inside out and how the noises you made reminded me of when I was in the womb and taking cover was the only option left to reexamine.
You’re a child of God and together we make up a divinity both divine and claustrophobic in its unintended consequences and lost horizons. And I’ll love you until the end of time.