We are our own Metamorphosis

C’mon
Let’s go kill some stars
I got my braids
All twisted up
Fired up my Red Ryder
Sure-fire BB gun
I can taste
The burst of the swallow
of the choke
of the choleric crystal that will
Billow out like clouds
I can feel
the funk of the fight
of the roar of the birth
the lick of the lascivious
rebellion that ensues
with every nubile step
The float of the awake
into liminal ecstasy
The laughter of fear
The sheer conceit of
A self-propelled mind
The chaos of knowing too much
The arrogance of the infection
The escape from the insipid
Cacophonies of strangers
on trains and in coffee shops
I can see
The poem of myself that I left behind in Italy
The resonance of every whisper
The glide of every glorious
liquid laugh
cheeks melting into smiles
I can hear
The rat-a-tat-tat of the engine of energy
The infectious cackle of the spirit’s elation
The cries of the frustration
of the self-defeating
The swish of the wave
Rolling into a bit of omniscience
I can touch
The shine in your eyes
The jungle of your unruly locks
The lovely Earth we slept on
The crunch of the downtrodden desire
The absolute effervescence of lust
The fluff of the cotton that
yields to my touch
You
I can be
The elation of sunburn
The glide of the glowering nexus
Of balance in chaos
The journey of enthusiasm
In lightning moving across minds
The catastrophe of knowing
The elegance of a waterfall
The clink of the clack
of a callous and carefree
Consciousness
The dual and dangerous
Deception of destruction
The esoteric eager student
of Earth
The fall
The light
Hellish and demanding
The litany of laughter
The myth
The rapacious
The seeker of sin
The cerebral vitamin
C’mon
Let’s go kill some stars.

Melissa Eleftherion has a B.A. from Brooklyn College. She is primarily a writer, however she also finds sunlight in photography and filmmaking. She has had poems published in Poetic Voices and Nature's Echoes.