Gold and Incense

By Tara Gira

It’s a lucid dream happening in real life-

The shadows remain,

Nailed.

But gold trickles down the wooden post−

The glory of gaping wounds.

Descends

Towards me.

But I back away−

My feet filthy and scarred.

My silent plea for that glistening river to not touch me,

Attempts to drown my desperate need.

A dragon-

Small and bejeweled,

With garnet and sapphire eyes,

Floats behind me,

Breathing smoke.

Silver whisps of divine ecstasy

Escape his nostrils.

Enveloping me in its strength,

Bitterness,

And sweetness.

I’m so beautifully blinded,

That when I open my eyes,

The golden river meets my knees.

I never knew this desire,

To never want to see again.

By Tara Gira