Desire

A steady rhythm within his head, which reverberates off of the hard wood,

As if mimicking, or perhaps foretelling, the soft coo

That calls from behind the barred gate.

Banter helplessly roles off his tongue, a speech both inviting and repressing

The boy behind bars, encapsulated within the self.

He reaches inside his companion’s frigid cavern, removing a jug, containing bits and pieces, remnants. He pours.

The fluid runs about the opposing body, seeping into each pour, into the dark stream that drowns us all, carried away by the bright, pallid creature to be processed by a higher being, the electrical current flowing behind his beautiful blue eyes.

Back turned, his shame facing him instead, the meeting of eyes, the drawing in, interlocking of two souls, as the individual is laid to rest.

He cannot bear it.

The gentle words strike like poisoned arrow tips, as the Attempt to understand forces the tear to run, the hand to reach, the bodily embrace.