Aurgasm

Hollowed by tragedy’s teeth, deep down an echoing well, locked in a space heavy enough to quit my job for six months to deal. Seeking a place, a mirror, a word to bring my next step. Something to hold on to or in me. I look at you. Familiar retreats yield no avail: not Rage, not Björk, not Mezzanine, not Pumpkins not Fiona; nothing is felt. I sift through new. Wasteland post rainforest until I find Something Borrowed, Something Blue. A parallel spilt from her veins; blood, tears, scars pulsating my open wound ravine. Beauty melting, stunning and floating, her lifting fingertips stay or leave. Intensity composed to continue, as rain’s gift is beneath its gloom, in more than a lovely sound.