Anatomy of Euphoria

I am feeling awfully divine
(it’s so nice that it’s awful)
You make me spark and ignite
as metal striking metal,
boastful divides –
partners of eros and
cousins of war

Even in perfectly simple beginnings
love perspires with melancholy,
condensational beauty
to only last for a quick gulp
of the soul
like plain liquor no chasers
smiling through intoxicated veins
foolishly forgetting
tomorrow’s withdrawal

My lips are your name
chanted as of late
for windy ritual,
a fire that won’t burn out –
not today,
no,
not until I say so
I’ll keep my mouth closed

You should know
poppies and dandelions and rain
call me insane
to steal the ground for you,
I was bound to be blue
You are geraniums and dirt
under my fingernails
and you are my tall-tale
to tell

I’ve gone full-body-dive
into the sky
into the river of your spell
I’m not feeling well –
nauseous and anxious
To say I’ve got butterflies in my stomach
would be an understatement,
more like a tornado or typhoon
with no footholds or placement
in the undertow

There’s no place to go
but to wash up on the shore
You are a sacred balance of ‘enough’
but I still want moremore
You are too soft to touch,
it’s too much for me –
Lately the sky don’t breath
and neither do I
You’re a stop in the seas
and Disaster’s lullaby

It seems strange to understand
how I am troubled beneath your hands,
but it’s impossible to stand
while I’m floating away

You can lock me in a grave
and call me depraved
I’ll cherish the day,
and lay smiling as I suffocate
into euphonous exhaustion
still dreaming of your face

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