Crank (Crank 1)

Tried my left side. Flashed

on my bedroom at home.

Pin clean, pretty in

mauve, a ballet of pink

butterflies on the walls,

pillow-top mattress to die for.

Flopped onto my back. Found

the keyhole behind my eyes,

squeezed through, into sleep.

Not slumber, but sleep just this

side of waking, where dreams

fuse with reality.

Through the Keyhole

I found myself in a meadow,

brilliant green beneath a soft

wash of sunshine.

I moved at a near sprint,

drawn toward a symphony,

primitive passion.

Lovemaking.

Wildcats mating, snarls at

the joining, satisfied roars

signaling completion.

I slowed, shifted upwind,

crept very near,

somehow unafraid.

Fascinated.

Some movement gave me

away. Exquisite feline eyes

found me in the grass,