Therapy

Next time you see your shrink
you’ll ask him if the moon loves
you; he’ll tell you that she doesn’t,
but what does he know about it?

I pay my fare to tender slumber and ascend and get caught
between gravitational strands of unconsciousness.
The silken candyfloss turns into spiders, 
the universe is green, how I want you green
two tigers prowl clockwise like yin and yang.

I saw the back of your head and said hello to you
but you were not you in the end.

In dreams, money is not the same. I pay for ice cream
with fragile laughterlets: if they are red they
are worth two scoops. A boy opens his quaint chest
of beads - three will buy him a lock of his lover’s hair;
the rise and fall between her eyelashes, or a ride back to earth.

I saw the back of your head and said hello to you
but you were not you in the end.

Two girls on rollerskates glide concentrically
and they look like carnal swans. The stars are drunk.
I push them over and they smash like china and the
universe is broken. I am manic with ardent silence.

I saw the back of your head and said hello to you
but you were not you in the end.

                                                I gravitate to you, like a lump
                                                of rock and matter searching
                                                                   or its sun.

                I will break my orbit                                              I’m celestial, like the stars
                 and my words; I will                                            we counted last summer                                      dance like a satellite.                                                       dancing in the sky.

I’m following a supernova                                                                           You move in tangent
pulling me in and pushing                                                                            as your trajectory
             me away                                                                                              stumbles into mine

                          flying like Icarus;                                          before we ricochet
                        we burn our paths                                           away, and follow the
                         before they can cross                                  patterns set in motion

                                                              by the philosophers of
                                                             old. We scatter like comets
                                                             approaching the atmosphere

ORBIT

Come towards this force and don’t be afraid to make
it all the way Back to where you came from,
where the wind made portraits on your face and told whispers To your complexion,
without which, you may forget all that you and Me promised each other.