my eyes see, they want to,
my ears hear the same way.
desire is my eyes,
and my ears and too my taste and smell,
and all of the things
that make me real in this world
and make this world,
this universe,
real in me.
desire is the arms that i rip my heart open with,
and make it so i can fit more in,
more in
more in.
there is no end to my desire for more,
in this city,
in this room,
on this table,
in the chair,
in my guts,
all the way full,
all the way emptying,
always for more,
satisfied by this insatiable hunger,
and the knowing that it will always be there
if i want it to. if i want.
settling in this time
over the square brown city,
under yellowing skies
and the haze of this feverish drift,
shuffling drudgery,
anything could be here,
the last dance of the discontent
as they are squeezed off the streets
and into the city buses,
with the spark and rustling of something,
anything more than
this place.
this plan.
this girl.
this car.
this day.
anything more.
freedom from desire is to be desire,
to enter into the house,
and make her your jacket,
make her your shoes,
your feet,
and walk out the door that is no longer there,
it is in your back pocket,
in the gown of a madman and saint and fool.
eat, drink, look, listen, feel, dream.
show the gods by being a god,
the god of desire,
the god of rage,
the god of love,
whichever,
pick one,
if you want.
but only if you truly want.