In Love

The force of a thousand volcanoes hits me on the back of the head,
The world’s as bright as a clean pin,
Sounds are alive.

We were one, not in the moment of meeting,
But in departing:
My loss was the catalyst for change.

Now irrationality tears my head from its moorings -
Pinned,
Trapped,
I move smoothly on the outside,
Roil on the inside.

Mountains move and the moon falls down,
Wind in shadowy trees,
A restless urge and the dragging minute,
Sighs that lead to nothing,
Wild exultation,
Bitter plunging despair.

Wrung out, strung out, worn out,
I rage around details,
Plan great vistas,
Sink exhausted in bed.

Only in sleep does my heart stop jumping
And dreams fill my head instead.

30/07/08