Eyes like lifeless black marbles in the flicker
A fleet of klickity clack, swoop sweep and scribble.
I'm unsure of how many hours I've sat in this position
mechanical automatic and unaware
waking only occasionally to follow a familiar footstep
or an edgling glint of a smile.
God I wish you were my job.
Those eyes that pierce without apology
spike heels, that novice strut
wit like the thick leggy curve of a scimitar
hipster panties edging through her jeans
lips like strawbery daquiris in the desert.
Visions so sweet
like daylight raindrops on asphalt
I just want to pop you in my mouth.
And be.
When I leave this place,
I step through glass floating like winding staircases
electronic rhythms in my head
lights crackling and dimming behind me
out above the still urban sprawl
monoliths, towers and cool greys
with no other remote suggestion of mankind
up the edge of the greatest spire
serenely humming along
recomposing reality and song as I go.
No terror in the emptiness.
No catastrophes to be oblivious of.
I know you're at the top.
I don't know if you're waiting for me.
I know that I don't care.
So long as you don't take this from me.
One step at a time
some day I'll have the chance to apologize
face to face
empty to fire
mundane goddess to admonished sinner
feeling as I do.
Wanting as I want.