Torrent

The ache began in a pouty place deep inside,
integrated into muscles and tissue, my blood
boiling up and spilling over into foreign dreams
and slim underpinnings, the place where
your imprint has tainted me:

venomous,
pathological,
intrusive.

I cannot escape your strangling sear,
embedded in angry bones and furious flesh.
What strikes me is how expansive
your visitation takes me. One minute
I am dreaming of you in Paris,
at a sleek cafe at Montmartre;
then you lay beside me entwined
with knobby elbows and scraping knees,
so interwoven, that I can not identify
the exit door. I am trapped with vision
after vision, how you smeared me
with hot, butterscotch kisses,
and then I am a slave to your virile anger,
your gnashing teeth, and your unpredictable bite;
I become a pawn granting the wishes
of an unruly child with too much power.

How do I escape this unyielding entrapment?

I throw myself into the River Babylon
longing to drown under swollen rocks
and fleshy marsh, but alas I bobble for air,
gasping for sweet milky breaths,
and joyously so. Though you have devoured
my savory nectar, you had failed to possess me,
and I found a zest for Fruitful freedom,
and my only languid desire was to escape:

celebration,
metamorphosis,
liberation.

I learned to cohabit salty shadows
rather then embrace gleaming sunbeams,
avoid minty forests at twilight's nod,
embrace the forgotten lost ones
to heal from life's torrid derision and casualties,
glean knowledge from those patient sages,
leaving not a single stone unturned if possible,
and dance with centaurs and dryads,
let the magic spill into my essence
until I cleansed myself meticulously,
not so much to erase your somber effect,
but rather to coexist with the fumbling bull,
and allow the rains, the heaving torrents from Heaven
spill over my bleary frayed nerves and naked torso,
and let go of this pallid torment.