"Time Stamp"

here.

within this forbidden place

riddled with foliage and secret pathways

overgrown with moss and forest floor fungi

mud seeps. drainage endures

flash floods and

chaos filled rivers

stretched to estuaries reserved

for the ever binding relationships

mixed salt and freshwater beginnings.

here.

the place where stone compresses

under pressurized rocks

forming Tacori diamonds

laden with small velvet boxes

reserved for surprise engagements

bent knees the humbling

of past lives and hurts forgiven.

here.

the subconscious dimension

surpassed with waking hours

dawn forgiving light

and horizons meet the east

settled in the west

and dew comes a new morning.

the reverie induced dreams

where you and i meet

the voice familiar

the tone forgiving

the words fallacious

hidden in time and space continuum's

where you lie to me

breathe consonants, vowels and adjectives

saying that forever you will be

within me.

but you are not

here.

in my thoughts. in my dreams. you shape and relocate

the risen zombie figure of corazon and lovers born

with first kisses and candlelight wishes

gushy enveloped letters filled with your scent

effervescent. soul decadence.

a time stamp;

and i miss you.

because,

you're not supposed to be here.

you invade my space/my place

reserved for emptiness

unforgiving actions

unforgettable memories.

why do you

seek to appear

in soulful manifestations

filling the static air of radio

in a tune that embodies you?

why do you

animate and dissipate

in a matter of seconds

hours laid with head to pillow

vanished hung down my dreams

weeping willow

why do you

give me signs that only God can give thee

a figure, present

a insignia, gone

a scent, lessened. you were here.

you were there. you were present

everywhere

and you still continue

to be

what i ought to not love within me

and damn I hate how you invade my space

I'm supposed to not need

prioritize

lie

victimize

and be indulged by

being in dreams

recognized

as the glue that shapes me. The Michelangelo forced to be the

undeniable quest of hands meeting body

body meeting skin

skin meeting soul

soul to soul,

a kiss.

here.

you are not supposed to be here.

the awful stench of past lives re-birthed into

futuristic and optimistic visions. I am not supposed to love you

I am not supposed to care. I am not supposed to be the weak

in your strength the being of your human body the soul in your

divine expression.

you. are. not. supposed. to. be. here.

you,

the hidden riddle in which

my moth denies the utterance to speak.

you

the soft lips forming pillows

which i embrace and beckon to lie down upon.

you, the one

whom understands the thought process of

what of my life in a mess

you make sense

of the chaotic

and freshen the dead

which was in me.

i can't move. i am hypnotized and tranquilized

victimized and so i lie...here.

wanting. needing. to hear one last word.

just give me one last breath of you.

just give me

one single second

in which i can summon all the thoughts i learned. perhaps in that second

i can gather my thoughts and show you the essence of me

perhaps

in that single second of our meeting

i can just...i can just...i can just...

be silent.

be silent with you.

do you need to utter a word?

are we not soul connected

and so damn gifted in which

we lift our hands and become one

bare on cotton sheets, fuck the thread count

i want to be the name in which you shout

roll me under, arch in my back

damn.

you are the chain,

in which i react.

i can not love you.

you make me love you.

you make me be the best and worse in you.

you make me

just so damn-

free. i cannot fly if you invade my dreams

i cannot fly if you send universe signals to awaken me

i cannot fly if you clip

my wings.

here.

my thoughts. visions. fiend.

here.

future present

un-waking

dream.