Dreaming A Memory -

Of Strong Hands In A House Of Ghosts.

Of Boyish Hands Weaving The Strands Of Costumed Freaks.

Of Wondrous Hands Crafting Phantom Furnishings

For Serpents, Fish, Tripping Lizards -

And Of Course

For Newt's Pleasure.

The Memory Of Violent Raptures Enfolded Around Me

In The Embrace Of The Quiet One -

The Escaped One.

The Light And Dark Memory Of Perfect Solitude Shared

With A Stranger Friend Of Equal Attraction -

I Tasted His Charms...

One Week Ago

Tonight

I Slept In Those Arms.

So Much To Respect...

His Teeth On My Neck...

The Taste Of His Soul -

I Did Not Expect

To Feel So Relieved

At The Flavor Of Darkness....

I Was Seen And Believed

In That Momentous Starkness...

That Instant Of Pleasure -

So Honest In Texture...

That Dreaming And Sleeping -

I Will Always Treasure.

©JANUARY 21, 2000 By Jason Wright

-For Mathew James Mitchell-

Who For A Few Brief Hours Shared

His Time & His Bed, His Space, His Life,

& His Affection;   It Was Not Unappreciated.