a bouquet of dreams

a wrapped hope

a warm fuzzy something

a kindred

a flashing screenplay

a hot air balloon always on fire

a reward for nothing

a display of affections

a tap dancing that resonates

a subtle hint that more is coming

i’m here, i’m coming, i’m opening!

as we knew you would – the face behind the

display smirks; plots, wait it out

till time lengthens, elongates

does not hit the midnight strike

no moment of clarity;

just joyous abundance as the guest

makes chat, talk, gestures, tendrils, fingers

snake inside to reach, to grope deeper, to

adjust, to unhinge, to pry apart

inner workings once unspoiled, on the trajectory

towards boredom, towards steadiness – who wants that?

when tempting offers come about!

time slows, the mind adapts

body grows fat, stupid, lazy

no midnight strike, just a dull sense

of something being fixed: no red flags.

just a guest putting hands on elbows

as if in comfort – i hear you.

funny, fuzzy warm heat spreads

dazzled, sluggish, happiness trickles

still no orange, no red, just stupor

when dreams are just dreams,

hopes metamorphosize, a kindred

uses;

a turncoat, a flashing doubt,

with hot air always heated burning –

too hot, but the promise is met,

not exactly what you wanted,

kind of late now to change one’s mind

when a guest has you chained

a payback, a display of hate,

with a tap dancing like a drum

beat too harsh for the heart to withstand;

a glaring statement

there’s hell to pay

and a devil transforms from light,

time halts, time stills

it is the midnight hour

and gifts

are finally seen for what they are.

a price, a cost, a transaction –

a soul nurtured, tendered, nourished

by the guest you fell in love, in lust with

does it matter now?

the deed is done, the payment went through,

knock, knock

hell’s hungry.