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In this prison

I can only imagine the texture of your skin

And the heat of your heartbeat


In this prison

My body roams in restlessness

Unable to settle into the holiness of your arms

And the tenderness of your words


In this prison

No one can hear my wails

Or my midnight prayers


I know the difference between imagination and reality

You may not know this


And I have entered the battlefield

Only to immerge at the end

Craving the stillness of winter nights


You have been hiding for so long

Even so, you have always been connected to me


and it is cruel that I can not give you

my youth

Yet, sweetmess  is still within me

and is waiting for you


Can we escape the prisons of our egos?


And for this one time

Lose everything to what is real?




Don't be a fool
Nothing can grow until the ground is turned over and crumbled
There can be no roses, and no orchards
Without first this, that looks devasting.
you must lance an ulcer to heal it
You must tear down parts of an old building to restore it
and so it is with a sensual life that has no spirit in it

(mia2004 (c) all rights reserved)