...reaching for the chase...

skylights beam stolen reality
to the story
forming outside my window

flames lick like coughing from deep

candy soaked voluptuous frenzy
and craning the neck to see

sending
sending

chapter after chapter
dancing out the plot
but floundering at the points of character greatness
the story presents itself
as more
than the players could ever be

scores of torches and quick thunder recess
driving
scalding
from the scene

do not cross
do not make amends
do not
tear the flesh at the pressure points

there is meaning
and there is horror
as the story spills itself
on the pages before me

candid
fearful moments
bidding you good night

feathers tickle the throat and throbbing

forgotten
the theatre
and the magic

of sending myself
out
on a branch that may
not hold

and there i find the story
finding me
and becoming
more

arf '98