Ecstasy

My skin has left my flesh

and is now dancing on the ceiling above us.

We’re sprawled on the floor,

connected only by our warm fingertips.

but that single squared centimetre

pulses with all the sensations of

a man’s lifetime in an almost

overwhelming concentration.

 

My eyes are closed but I can see

the heartbreak your body is

ravaged by, and even though

we’re lying in silence I can

still hear the echoes of your

cries for help.

 

We’re sober but I’ve never

been more intoxicated.

 

And even though I can

smell the childhood that was

singed out of your body

prematurely…..

 

I can also smell the frangipanis you

used to plant with your grandmother

when you came home from school.

 

I can taste the triple chocolate banana ice cream your

grandfather would buy for you,

even when your mother told him not to.

 

I can feel the relief that washed through

your veins as you finally found

a language which had words

that explained your pain,

and I can hear the simple, subtle sounds

of the first couplet of poetry

to ever leave your lips.

 

I see purple.

My bedroom is filled only by

the dim, pale light of my

bedside lamp, but I see purple.

 

And green.

And pink.

 

I see so much, even though

my eyes are closed.

I’m drunk, but my head has never been clearer.

It’s as if the veins beneath our fingertips have merged,

and a beautiful narcotic is pulsing through our bodies simultaneously.

 

I want to kiss you.

 

I want the heroin in your body’s wine

to be the hero in my body’s shrine.

 

I shiver in ecstasy as your palm slides

beneath mine, and I almost

explode in euphoria

as our fingers intertwine.

 

I open my eyes and I look deep into yours.

 

We’re both in thick jeans and

heavy sweaters

but we’re both naked.

 

Our eyelids are half shut

But we see each other.

 

The tips of your lips

lift in the slightest of smiles

and I know that God exists.

 

I watch the mountains of your

chest rise and fall,

And I doubt love is a word

that doesn’t bring shame

to what I feel for you.

 

Your thumb gently rubs

the back of my hand and

I shiver, volcanoes emerging

from my skin to push my course

black hairs so far into the sky

that they tear open the stars

and let heaven trickle through.

 

I want you in my arms,

but it’s impossible for us to get any closer.

 

Our bodies have disappeared.

 

It is just you.

It is just me.

Existing in time and ecstasy.