+ phantasmagoria
fantasia ----
little angels
flutter blissfully inside me
tasting bits of peace and paradise
gently so gently
delicate halos grow strong enough
to raise the corners of my mouth
lips pressing into a smile
so i lean in clumsily
to kiss the fantasies i dream of
that feel so real
when the ideas touch me
leaning in further
and still desiring that kiss
the propinquity of such a kiss
almost frightens me
so nervous almost trembling
i smell the fragrant breath
i could breathe it as my own
you're such a close fantasy to me
and the little angels
inside of me yet
i feel them fluttering
but falling
halos glowing
but dying
they are falling
and fallen
dying inside of me
their delicate bodies
disintegrate into ash
that coats me with its grey filth
my hands so small
hold onto it gropingly
yet i stumble
and i fall
because leaning in
for an innocent kiss
with such a fantasy
has toppled me
my fantasy is not strong
enough to hold me up
and i've suffered so now
shattered melted broken
in the piteous valleys of lamentation
i was tasting
or so i dreamt
a kiss of fantasia
it's something i'll never have
so i divide my armies
and i delete my hope
the growls fade out into tears
the loathing reduced to weeping
my sins unabsolvable
blaspheme the alleged faith
faith treasured by those content
to live life on television
to be great inside their heads
but i, instead,
have sung accolades of greatness
so loudly to your heavens
but they are merely foolish warped cries
from the same pits below
that i dwell and dance within
a mangled revolutionary mourns
the mauling of a fantasy
crippled ambitions unblinded lost faith
guilty seraphim dance way above
marching with demons feigning holiness
under the blanket of brimstone am i
scared though
from the crescendo of it all
and now, post-kiss,
a bitter tremelo is all i can voice
a sour effigy paints your perception of me
the fantasies consumed
i'll pass off convolution for lucidity once more
such lucidity that draws us into
what they call
----reality.
+ c. davis
+ february 1999