The rush

Here I am
wanting to make
a compromising revelation
to you
without knowing how.
Trying to figure out
a way to balance myself
on the edge of language
without risking a fall.
Treading carefully
upon beautiful sea shells
Trying my best
not to break them all.




There are, of course,
those occasions when falling off
and smashing what's under
is required:
then I go with the rush
plunge into the thrill
and let go.
But it doesn't take long
until I have to come up
to breathe in
the air of consciousness:
I think hard
of you and me - and this
till I almost blush.
Only then can I feel
absolute bliss.

There, I said it.

And that's the best use
you can give to a metaphor.
That's what poetry,
in the end,
is good for.