Beyond Caution

The night bites at the back of your heels as you run down the street

screaming,

"I can only do the things I was told not to do."

Signs fly by

"CAUTION" scorched through dead red metal

but you're beyond that

and it's warning only spurs you on.

 

Whatever the cost.

Whatever the prize.

Whatever the end.

 

You fly through unmarked doors knowing instinctively what the signs

would read if they were indeed there.

 

No exit.

Not return.

No denial.

 

You fly by those 9 to 5 types with unyielding speed,

clothes seared from their bodies by friction you create

leaving them exhaustedly delighted

not knowing if the dream was real.

You get all the things you saw in the back of

comic books as a child

mail order and all

using stolen visas

 

whose owners gladly pay for the pleasure of knowing your touch.

You sleep beneath the cracks

 

of the doors

of all the rooms

of all the hotels

 

that knew your name upon their registry

disturbing sleep

destroying dreams

but leaving all refreshed from your wild card warning

with a morning reminder that permeates the senses like the smell of

burnt toast.

You explode

 

grabbing tails of only the fastest comets

breaking rules, burning barriers

shooting tall

 

persuaded by guided rhythms of Gabriel's golden horn

pulling towards the heavens

but resisting with fire to spare

soaring down toward open arms that wait

never patiently

for her fragile one's return

battle weary and burnt.

She and only she is there to soothe the tattooed soul that seeks

refuge from society's heat

and she remains faithful with a tender kiss that soothes for all time

for all eternity.

 

1989