Free Will Dream

Jim Larwill

Canadian Shield Chapbooks III
Text Box: FREEWILL DREAM Sometimes a hug can be confusing, or at least something you don't expect like in a dream where she is standing in front of you and you are the one who steps forward into the soft embrace, her arms closing around you as you feel your entire body slip into a warm envelope. But this last one wasn't like that. When latch of my arms hinged shut Text Box: she wasn't standing between roots of my feet, my lost hands searched blast of iron wind and surface of what I thought was my empty chest only to discover ridge along right side of my body was now filled and for a moment there was a memory where I was a cold warrior leaning on his spear, smooth polish of weapon before battle, held like comforted child to pounding drum of a breast, one with no fear of life death or rhythm Text Box: know inside from outside, feel pleasure of pain or pain of pleasure; I no longer live in here and now or even the then and the there. The world a window or a mirror it matters little, for when I look down into it it sees no reflection or shadow of me, for I am the timeless one unravelling the knot, these hands wings flying through nightmare - of life eternal. Text Box: that strides between this and the next moment. And then I parted from her body, walked with less than a stride down rivers of ice, kept my balance between waves of street light, my eyes shine of tears, ones I let roll over long icicles of my mouth where words are the only kisses I now press to these lips. I walked until I stood next to a building where rituals of betrayal are a sacred act and I took comfort in fact, my sepulchre is painted black; Text Box: for I know a tongue as sharp as a razor it peels blood sweet skin from bodies of women, and too often I have tasted hot fruit of their hammering hearts, smeared my face with warm pulp, squeezed liquid of their essence down my throat, only to fill this belly with a hunger that haunts my days; murders my nights. I spread my arms and a wind lifts me, to where I no longer