Tonight You Are My Guinea Pig

Tonight you are my guinea pig.

I’ll ask you out under the moonlight
Hold your hands in a lover’s touch
Grip your eyes till I see the depths of your soul
While I dance my tears inside.

I’ll start a line that will capture your attention.
I’ll watch your mind process the things I told you.
I will see the confusion, the glimpse of happiness
And fortunately, the doubt that will end in it.

I will then look away, feeling your eyes upon me.
Trying hard to see through me, to conquer my words
To decipher my endless meaning and wholeness.
You will try to hold my gaze, that I wouldn’t give away

Until I want to, until I’ve masked my own conclusion.
You will then get tired of catching my eyes
So that you will miss me meet your doubting,
Hurting, thoughful–hopeful gaze.

I will stare with the heart of my heart in it.
Satisfied that the test of fate
Responds in the nature of me.
Hopeful it would turn out the way I dreamt it to be.

Prayful that i wouldn’t hurt head first
Knowing I never touched anything, risked anything
Wanted anything that is beyond me.
I wouldn’t utter a single sound

Or make the slightest movement
I will dart my arrowlike gaze,
Summoning your inner attention
Until you look back at me and respond the things

I have no idea that floats inside all of you
Of which I was never prepared.
You looked at me saying you understand the risk
Saying you forgive the trick.

Until you hold me and say you’re gratified
–To my surprise.
That I would cry in your arms when you thanked me…
For choosing you amongst the top of my insanity
–Of which I am reluctant to give.

For wanting you, above the list of my primal needs.
For taking you, against my sheltered
Dislikes and preferred negativities
Scattered in every fiber of me.
My eyes would widen to fit the length of the sun

My knees would shaken to the beat of the earth
Everything will move in its places
Afloat its spaces, flow in its graces
Disconcertingly leaving me with my ados.

I looked at you with my heart in it and wish
The world otherwise when I told
Myself it was a lie.
Until things changed forms and sizes.

We are there baldly aware of the intent
Subjectivity of the soil beneath us.
When you look at me, I’ve reached my end,
I am without everything, stripped off

Of my second skin, naked before the
Thickened glass of my judgement
For I am but a figment of your imagination
A product of life’s intent game

I am but a guinea pig.

=-=-=-=-=

The above poem was done and posted from Friendster last 21Sept07 (2007!) inspired by a former 'prospect' (a way of putting it). More to follow.

P.S. Uhmm, nothing. More to follow. *grin*
*mlma