SHADOWS
AND A VISION
The man in the house is a dream
not yet woken...
A devilish angel
their God has not broken...
He stands in that darkness and
nothing corrupts him...
Escaped from this prison
and it cannot touch him...
But it haunts his eyes
and I want to soothe him...
Want to caress,
connect and move through him...
But I cannot touch him
for ghosts don't exist...
Yet he felt so alive
on the night that we kissed.
He appeared in my room
and awkwardness followed...
His thoughts deftly filled me
yet made me feel hollowed...
We wandered the streets
and I saw he was right...
They do look like paintings
at this time of night.
We shared our stories,
of pain and of drinking...
And I'm going to Hell
for all I kept thinking...
Between flash of eyelashes
time slowed to such length...
Seduced by such visions
of vulnerable strength...
Such moments were fleeting
for friendship was needed...
The slut deep inside me
confessed and conceded...
For he hears his heart
far more clearly than I...
He's somewhere beyond me
and I don't know why...
Returned to his home;
overwhelming and minimal...
Leaving him there was both
haunting and criminal...
The shouting and smells
seek to silence; malign him...
But he will survive...
This ghost is alive...
And the houses he haunts will never define him.
Written by Jason Wright
OCTOBER 10, 2011
For David Hull