A Night of Conflict

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Photographer: Barbora Biñocovà
Photo used with permission

a night of conflict

and i know that’s what i seem to
desire as a pyramid to tutankhamen’s
eyes lined with kohl and coal covered
fingers cupping flame to ceiling asking
asking what all those symbols mean
when everything can be taken
out of context and eventualities
which never quite eventuate
how you will it
to be

and i sold my palms
to the closest fortune-teller
willing me empresses and rivers
and rabbit-holes into my wonderland
where conversation is a silent motionless
enterprise of saffron and silk and
rustling curvatures implying
bodies dancing and living and laughing
and searching for the next
little thing

and i on the mezzanine and i
in a hallway circumventing solutions
mapped out by cartesian thinkers and notes
of endless misconceptions
given salt and pepper
to taste

i want all of this to crumble
for hieroglyphics to bathe in
green currents green melodies
in silver solutions
inseeming and insoluble
inscrutable and enchanting
you
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Copyright © 2015 Jason Morales

CONTRIBUTORS NOTE:
Jason is a Kiwi Filipino.  Slightly conflicted.  Slightly frazzled with life yet likes going for moonlight runs in his boxers sometimes.

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Elliptic

I exchange sleepless oceans with you, many you’s, all in one
disordered evening where everything feels right not to make sense
in any way, as if this disconnection is somehow a holy fragment
from a wise man who sailed under the stars centuries ago,
to escape attention, conversation, the emptiness
and pull of wanting belonging to soothe
on frozen, listless days.

To study fingers as one would linguistics; the syntax of bodies
melting, becoming, pure becoming: the firelight, the interplay, the weaving
of sorrow and inexplicable joy, the resiliency of another tomorrow
somehow an aurora in muted, pastel grey.

Become a metaphor inside an endless spiral; become a verb of deserts
and moonshined gulleys pressed between palm and windowpane.
Sirens, banshees: wild women to your Cernunnos, Pan,
with endless wine and heavy grapes.

There is a story here I will whisper,
and mean to finish
one day.

Copyright © 2010 Jason Morales

CONTRIBUTORS NOTE:
Jason is a Kiwi Filipino.  Slightly conflicted.  Slightly frazzled with life yet likes going for moonlight runs in his boxers sometimes.