Behind Eyelids

Still shining; underneath the black cloth that has engulfed us in a room 100 degrees below light, and your chakras are the only thing visible in this shade. As I make my way towards your luminescent frame seductively dancing in the abyss, speaking in tongues only native to the Aztecs. I realize, that this is all a disguise.

So now I sit here like a mad scientist attempting to assemble an entourage of love potions to covertly caress your soul as I contemplate the ways in which I could cradle your heart with bare hands. Trying to make replicas of cupids arrows so I could personally inject you with my love.

But what does this mean?

That our love actually spells out lust?

The moist cell traps me inside suffocating my subconscious involuntarily making me want to stay and sink, into the quicksand.

Squirming trying to escape, but the more you squirm the faster you sink. Halfway in and thats when I decided to think..

“It could be much more than that.”

My soul ballroom dances in a corridor surrounded by daydreams of your daydreams. With my hands slowly caressing every kink in your passion and kneading every clot depriving your third eye from seeing visions of our colors being mixed, creating an 8th strip to the colors arching over bliss. Crafted by sandpaper palms in an attempt to sooth and smooth each and every wrinkle emerging from your heart. So strong no man made invention can dent it.

But loves invented…

My heart attempts to find the rhythm in which yours beats. Walking through gardens filled with flowers embracing your scent. The sun shines with your glow, and the clouds are in the shape of your smile. I get distracted easily, but your eyes? I’ve been lost in them for a while.

Although our love is prohibited I would gladly break the law if that means I will be locked up in a cell in which the bars are your ribs and my cellmate is your heart. I would love getting visits from your spirit. After, when my sentence is over, I would kiss your lips forever, with no pause, like a run on sentence till its over.

And by that time, time won’t be a factor.

Jamaal Bonnette