Little Miss Wonder
WE ARE THE DEAD
I dreamt of you again last night,
You came to me in a churning mist of memory. I heard you singing.
Notes spiralled down through night air, fragile as moths lost in the moonlight.
I lay amongst dust and roses as your distant voice awoke my spirit.
Whispered screams sliding through the abyss.
Unbind me from this tourniquet of love which tethers my soul.
If only you knew that with each beat of your heart I hear the hurt.
Every thought pervading your mind prompts me to feel silent tears you shed.
The blissful union we once shared now forms my dungeon of nothingness,
Invisible chains. Indescribable pains.
There is no solace in sorrow, no healing in stagnation.
Only you can allow me liberation from this stifling darkness
Tonight you will dream of me.
Breaking through obscure shadows of sleep, swooping through your absolute being.
Feel me gently caress your memories, soothe uncertain fears.
The spell you unknowingly still hold over me must be broken.
Damp air drips with scents of mould and decay as fog laps round my grave.
Release us My Love,
Or we are both the dead.
Little Miss Wonder.
30 November 2004.