solipsistic tendencies # 3

solipsistic tendencies #3



in my mind there is a cantilevered beam
on the one side nothing exists except what is
in my mind, activated inside my primordial sense of awareness
this is where the poet begins and has her
day in the fields of her Lord,
counting crows and watching the sunset
hide behind the cowboy riding off into,
(sometimes drowning in my own dark river of no
return...where the sweet water empties into salt
and I remember being a pillar, dissolving.)

on the other side, there is no other side, but the
emptiness of nothing I keep falling into one dream
after another, so gut-wrenchingly painful and true,
(I am nothing but a blank canvas being painted
by my Lover's hands, teasing and tormenting me
in the dark spaces of my being, licking the sense of
me like an ode to the succulence of strawberries and
cream, or the flow of mangoes down...
into my cradle of
bliss, pink-lipped and swollen...

ahh, but we were talking about solipsistic tendencies,
weren't we?