Twin Flames in Darkness

Message to my muse: I will never forget you.

When I saw you first, clothed, masked in persona,
Twitch through mind, in my body a silent roar,
Wicked glint in my eye, face of some fauna.
Primal instincts screamed: reach out, take her.

Journeying hand in hand, mind, body, soul intertwine
Translate to modern parlance: girl thy being be fine.
Tie you hand, foot, heart; myself being the twine,
Pour you out and partake as a glass of fine wine.

Twin flames in darkness, holding bay the night,
Singular thoughts two-pronged; dual wings in flight,
Bodies in rhythm, manifesting an effulgent light:
We are jagged jigsaw pieces; together made right.

Soon we will be alone.

Dear dearest, you are apple of my core,
Ally, friend, confidant, I could ask no more,
A partner like you, who would have me grow?
And a cutie and a half, a little one though.

Under the stars we did once sit.
Though long nights we did not meet,
And a dozen friends we did not greet;
Yet here we are, here we breathe.

Distant bass beats of a farewell drum,
But still…. why look so glum?
Take life’s strand in hand and strum,
For another verse is ever to come.

And when the song and dance is over,
Will we worry about how we played the over?
Wish we ran the race a little slower?
Peeked a couple times over our shoulder?
Here be Ignorance… ‘tis our four-leaf clover.


Epilogue

Footloose, wanderer, peripatetic gypsy man,
Forever walking, where willst make thy stand?
Stretching forever, yet infinitely short it is,
What comes next?
Life is such a tease.

Answers?

Together we sit, dance deep on the brink;
Eyes meet; breaths prance in sync;

An intimacy; no need to disrobe;
Thus do we see; behind this teary globe:

Lies a person like me;
Vast and infinite is she;
A dreamer like me

Unknowable, unconquerable, and unquenchable;
Her butterfly mind counterpoint to my stable.

This poem is but a story, nay, a parable;
The cipher not caught; ’tis mere babble.

She turns away; I look even deeper;
Would you run? Would she?
Does thee burn? Is it for me?
She flees my sway; I pull ever closer.

A sharp flame rises; the night darkens;
The moment suffices; the soul harkens.

She is my muse; my rhythm and my blues;
Is she but a ruse? A silently smoldering lit fuse?

’Tis the story of me;
A yearning for the sea;
The quest to be free

Heart of crisis; shifting soul of the Pisces.
Blue dawn rises; mind still surmises;

Breathe, stillness, silence; do you see?
Chaos, perfect balance; as all things must be.

Note:
This poem was originally published on Medium on Dec 25, 2019.