Encore

 Still man of my dreams

-Tamia

In many surprising, ebullient and levitating ways you see me

In many more mundane and pedestrian ways you don't 

Through an Inverroche and tonic balloon glass drunken from

Senses cannot subsume the botanical bouquet that is my flavour

Although you sip with appreciation, I starfish myself to the bottom

Can I take flight into a man's gullet, have to swim with my wings?

Can I perch myself safely on the rim of this gin slipperiness

Without tipping myself and this glass over into sharp shards? 

My wings have holes for the love holed up in my breast

An impaling, a bloodletting, an attempt to cure a heart broken

I am faint and woozy with this going forth and turning back 

At a loss of direction and orientation, the blood spreads its wings

A true crime scene, of passion, of the tragic humours of it all

My DNA to the codis of love gone wrong for the ones to come

A clone of a consuming pain, so material it becomes a companion

I was a soaring spirit, but this dear love holed up in my breast 

Is letting all the pneumatic out and the world's debris in 

I am a swimming spirit, but now my chest burns and thuds

Terrestrially and laden with all the issues of trust surrounding it

I will become a riparian spirit setting camp by a riverbank

In living water, healing for the harming and the harmed is found