Content With Lightning

There are those who are content with lightning,
And those for whom quaking love is an absolute must.
I am thrashing.
I am deadly.
I have lived some.

But I am neither afflicted nor pained well,
I write, instead, of such fantastic creatures.
Not of their extraordinary diseases.
But of their silhouette dances,
Their clarion noises,
The melody in their walk.
Pull up a stool, watch carefully,
Observe them in natural habitats,
With wide beating chests,
And fine bright colors,
And deadly thirsts.

See the ashes in their footprints,
The breadth of their promises,
The whispers in their thighs.
The electricity behind loving eyes.

Some of us would never know the taste of such sweet trying,
And we are no better than these fine stools here gathered.
Let us pray.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s