Lorenzo Buford
|
I can no longer
twist and entwine with my lover. You left me and chased birth into a world of humans that made gender wars and gave you genitalia that made war on many types of consciousness. When you broke from my embrace as you stopped looking into my eyes, we found ourselves riding chairs through the minds of gods; but you let go of my hand and fell into the rooms in their mansion minds; and I screamed your name; and the pain shattered me into stars, into planets, into Things that wander through many forms looking for its reflection. I made planets in these mental abysses to hold the tears, the blood that poured forth as I gave myself wounds to hide in. Where are you my Beloved as the mental, the physical, and the emotional cry out to the sun as statutes holding my laments. I miss the embrace, the twisting and entwining with each other; but your memories are like a knife piercing my landscape. There is an ocean between us. The sacred space is now lands that are constantly being raped because we cannot recognize each other; and I am exiled into an underground fire that will rise as a living tree in the minds of man. |
