Night Sweats

From wild visions of corn that stem from between amber eyes, to the demons born between alabaster thighs
Between the moments of high insight and sublime elevation, to the cold wind that blows to your final destination

From up here on double helix drive, programmed for headlong rush, feet firmly planted on the winding tarmac that calls you onward
Onward head-rush hell-bent and forever wide-eyed with hope and amazement
This gargoyle doesn’t judge you for your cold calculation; doesn’t deny you that clinical masturbation
Doesn’t cut you or curse you; doesn’t hammer your downtrodden shoe
Nor does he worship your footsteps; your Achilles heel; your tendency to steel your heart against the soft invasion of trust; your kiss that tastes like rust
Heartbeat double bass with entrails strung; thoughts on bone keys tinkle symbolic cymbal obsessive rocking, between the dark of morning and the light-fingered dusk; a kleptomaniac pendulum for a clock of organic design; hung with brass screws and rivets of deep-rooted bigotry and fear; the clanking mechanism beneath that thin skin so photo sensitive.
Don’t pluck me from the raging torrent nor fuck me over with discontent; don’t bless me, baptise me nor save my sinning soul; don’t drag me all along that Watchtower; up snakes and forbidden fruit tree ladders; myths and legends born in nocturnal shudders for the shadows that creep your mind’s bedroom wall; rustle through the papers in your supernatural attic; do so with benign intent.
Intense limitations to the mind’s eye reading; old wife’s tales for menstrual bleeding; the moon hangs a left at Hollywood and divine, longing yet for gravity at his mother’s breast; green groans her bark at the bite of impending change.

So on ambergris thighs the empire of night and her silhouette spies emerge to reveal this reality stalking, through alabaster eyes that do listen to the ears of corn talking.