My imprint, My love: The wonders of Star Dance.: My Pegasus

Thursday, January 13, 2011

My Pegasus

Carry me torwards the clouds my Pegasus. Carry me torwards your home. Let me ride upon your saddled back as the wind becomes one with our flight and cream colored wisps of fluff precede your glorious arrival. Guide me through this blue browed sky my Pegasus. Guide me through your milky streets. Fly quick and true and I will kiss your fuzzy ears and whisper intimate words that will become our secret language, one of innocent laughter and huffs that makes our bond unbrakeable. Cradle me inside Aurora's chariot my Pegasus. Cradle me inside your wings. Holding my small and fragile body inside the overwhelming power of your frame. You are a stallion among stallions my Pegasus, a prince among princes. I thankyou for all those dusky dampened twighlights you brought me so close to that dark star speckled infinity they call space and asking for nothing in return but gentle caresses to your mane and intimate good talk in earnest. Let me unlock your stable my Pegasus. Let me unlock your dreams. You were not born for fences my Pegasus. You were born to fly.

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Were the World Mine

I love you, and I have been in Love with you for a long time. Although I may be invisible in your eyes, your stare has long turned my heart to stone. That is to say my very lifeforce has frozen for you. I fear that the Chariot will rise and fall across the Earth and I shall never breathe again without seeing you walking through my door. Were the world mine our lips would touch and stay locked until Heaven claimed one of us for its own. Were the world mine I would smile more, and laugh more, and sing more till Venus herself became jealous of our Beautiful rapture. Were the world mine, I would open your eyes and you would see me, really see me. See that beneath my windowed retinas my soul yearns for your soul, my trodding steps race torwards your steps, my beating heart, beats for your heart. But all of these yearnings are nothing but mere fantasies inside a boyish brain. Your heart does not beat back in tandem with mine, your steps are always running away from me, and your soul can never reach out and kiss mine. Or can it? I do not know. I fear that waking will put me to sleep. I fear that sleeping will awake me. One may think such paradoxes are difficult to understand but my Love for you is difficult to understand. "I have not the heart to Love" say I, but O how foolish it is to renounce such a magical glow that is the very essence of who I am, and who I will always be. I Love you. Do you understand I love you I love you I love you. Were the world mine I would tear the word for "Love" itself is pain and joy mixed up, shaken together, and served with a dash of injustice on a platter for fools. I ask myself that question " is it foolish to love you?" and day after day after rain after snow after cloudy night I stand on my imaginary plank at the edge of my imaginary ship and ask that very question over and over again until my mind squeezes out the answer. Whether that answer should take the form of a mere utterance or roaring battlecry the answer is always the same. Yes, I am a fool to pierce myself with one thousand killing darts of your gazes, one thousand murdering stabs of your embraces, and one thousand brutalites of your praises. I have the choice to either jump off my plank and plunge into new worlds overflowing with new charms, bearing better happier fruits, but instead I choose to wait for the moment the world is mine and my boat will sail to you. To that place on the horizon where magic takes place, and darkness is banished. Were the world mine, when you see me, for once you saw what is hidden beneath the surface, and what lies deep down in the depths of my conscience. Were the world mine the next time you brush my hand, instead you grasp it and never let go. Were the world mine you would dream the way I dream, and think the way I think, and cry the way I cry, and Die the way I die. They tell me that one day I will find that one person who we read about in storybooks, and that one day I will then know how to connect to another human being, and that once I do I will be joyous and understand life more. Well I do not need any ones pity, the sentiment of a companion faking compassion in the form of patronizing judgement because they think because they have slept together and explored one anothers anatomy that their love is greater than mine and they have something I have never tasted. I know how to love. I have been in love before and I am in Love this very moment and were the world mine you would be in Love me.

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Thursday, January 13, 2011

My Pegasus

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