Overstimulated

 

I stare at your face, every soft curve

perfectly in place, your hair, every one

of its millions of strands elegant, a frame

for beauty, and I stare, with eyes glazed.

As your lips raise, I realise you're speaking,

and I regain my focus - those softly spoken words,

a wish of a dream, a kiss on the breeze, a drifting

lullaby of memories to be...

And the sound of the room

comes rushing in like a flood.

Every splattered laugh, every cough,

every gasp, every whisper, every over-excited shout,

the fruit machine in the corner, coins rushing out,

a cacophony of copper, a glass dropped,

a car alarm goes off. I feel myself shudder.

 

And I tune them out to focus on your sweet tone.

 

And you lead me along a road of so many stories,

fantasies, a travelogue of fantastic journeys,

and I walk every step. No, I dance. Because they

sprinkle spring in the heels of my feet.

A season of rebirth,

as the lush thoughts grow.

But the glow of the lights

pulls me back - the blinking

of the fruit machine, the reflection

of light in clinking glasses,

the movement, the discord,

 the flowing crowd of human rain.

It sounds strange, but it brings pain,

too much stimulation in the brain.

I'd be better in a computer simulation,

a hologram of my own creation.

 

And I breathe in. Your soft perfume

teases my nose, so delicate, gentle, loving.

A summer glade on a perfect day, I picture

rushing waterfalls and rosemary, a lush green

field, a blanket where we can lay, and wait

for eternity, and never feel time getting in the way.

But then I sense the scent of sweat and musk,

the overbearing aftershave, the waft of Lynx deodorant.

Did you use a whole can, young man? I'm stuttering

over my drink, I can barely

 

Think.

My brain can't seem to

 

link thoughts any

 

more.

 

But I'm drawn on your words.

Little scrawled doodles,

and I wish to be a painting

on your walls, a portrait that you

can look upon with pride

and love in your eyes, like I feel

when I look at you

and see such beautiful skies.

But I'm distracted, the waves

of this ocean are making me seasick.

I'm better company when it's just me

and some soft music.

 

We could escape. If you'd let me take your hand,

we could walk in the green, feel the grass

and the gravity, watch the stars playing with

love in their eyes. We could breathe.

And I'd liken that to a perfect eve.

The sort that makes the world we walk on

weave the air with fairytales.