deciding to open.
You must plunge your fingers
into your navel, with your own two hands
split open,
spill out the lizards and horned toads
the orchids and the sunflowers,
turn the maze inside out.
Shake it.
Yet, you donât quite empty.
Maybe a green phlegm
hides in your cough.
You may not even know
that itâs there until a knot
grows in your throat
and turns into a frog.
It tickles a secret smile
on your palate
full of tiny orgasms.
But sooner or later
it reveals itself.
The green frog indiscreetly croaks.
Everyone looks up.
Itâs not enough
opening once.
Again you must plunge your fingers
into your navel, with your two hands
rip open,
drop out dead rats and cockroaches
spring rain, young ears of corn.
Turn the maze inside out.
Shake it.
This time you must let go.
Meet the dragonâs open face
and let the terror swallow you.
-You dissolve in its saliva
-no one recognizes you as a puddle
-no one misses you
-you arenât even remembered
and the maze isnât even
of your own making.
Youâve crossed over.
And all around you space.
Alone. With nothingness.
Nobodyâs going to save you.
No oneâs going to cut you down,
cut the thorns thick around you.
No oneâs going to storm
the castle walls nor
kiss awake your birth,
climb down your hair,
nor mount you
on the white steed.
There is no one who
will feed the yearning.
Face it. You will have
to do, do it yourself.
And all around you a vast terrain.
Alone. With night.
Darkness you must befriend if
you want to sleep nights.
Itâs not enough
Letting go twice, three times,
a hundred. Soon everything is
dull, unsatisfactory.
Nightâs open face
interests you no longer.
And soon, again, you return
to your element and
like a fish to the air you come to the open
only between breathings.
But already gills
grow on your breasts.
izzy806
gummygunk
discoholicmusic
2087
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