No melody song

I sit, I sit in the corner -
The quietest place of the house.
I feel, I feel like the porno -
Senseless and dumb lifeless spouse.
I see, I see all the reasons
Beyond the existence, and lies...
I die to lie down with my visions -
Extractions of my paradise.
 
With all those little clues and gestures
In the reality I grasp
I reinvent my semi-questions
From queries people wouldn't ask.
Then dimpled, briefly coloured jesters
Put on their briefly coloured masks,
And stride with pride onto the shore
To be destroyed and praised once more...

I fit, was fit as remembered,
Or maybe I wasn't in place?
I spit, I spat at you member
Or maybe it was in your face?
I bleed, just as I was bleeding 
For many ridiculous times.
I plead to the gift of palm reading
Of which I am crudely denied!

With all those little guilts and seizures,
As the reality on guard,
I reinforce my soundless visions
From views that films would not regard.
Then, loosely armoured, my divisions,
With loosened arms and legs, will start
To stride with pride onto the shore
To be destroyed and praised once more...

I dream the dream of tomorrows
To be unwisely alert.
I screen for caverns and hollows
To hook them and try to invert.
I pick up the pre-dying roses
To catch their vanishing bloom,
Then flee away like the sorceress
On my invisible gloom...

   
                18.05.16