I can't stop dreaming about you.

Rattle their bones off the mountain tops. Like handmade tambourines.
Scavenge to find your art, but make it.
Watch your step though, the hands still reach beyond the soil.
Bring you down, then lift you up. Just like you've always done.
We used to wait for hours, stars to sun, and moon met us in the mornings.
There is the soft waiting scent from autumn still on your skin when you thaw out each year.
I remember that September afternoon, driving by scenery and then off the road.
I stared at the blinding rays in the middle of your eyes that matched the threading of that old shirt.
All trust in Stendhal syndrome-esque dreams. The nostalgia ravages me senseless, pulling me with strings, your little puppet.
Obsessed with counting my steps so I could retrace them, the way you traced your finger tips along me...
Slivers from the tomb I've built and carried to my watery grave.
When you opened it and found I was no longer there.

Reborn with the spring, Bring fauna forth, you'll find me sleeping under trees.
Hide and Seek.

-Saree McClaran
May 28th 2013.

Moth

I watched as the softest of snowflakes fell on to your eyelashes the day you reached over to tell me that You loved me for the last time.
I remember the sun bleached rooms, the sheets, reflected shadows on the ceilings.
And the top of the stairs as you closed the door.
I crawled for you, for so long.
Bruised knees and bleeding palms, through the brush to find us in a clearing.
Fawns of Spring.
I was soaking in too many colors; the emotions flying off my fingertips on to a canvas to show you.
You couldn't see though.
You couldn't fucking see.
I chased after balloons like a child, "don't let it go, don't fly away", you said.
She grew wings over night though, and learned to use them 2 years later.
You watched her graze the light post on the street corner.
Eyes met and you lost your breath.

-Saree McClaran
03-09-13

Sea Gazer

You've slipped in and under the darkest words.
The strong sense of need, seething from novelty.
The realization that it was an act, and you were set up.
The rough, sharp texture of cemented dust in the crawl space you've escaped through.
The bleeding of your fingertips as you clawed through ice just to reach a sense of being real.
Profound. Finding.
When the water solidified into ice rushing through your lungs.
And your eyes froze open to watch the waves tearing flesh from your body.

Wake up.
Please! Wake. up.

We meet again, Sleep Paralysis, and she creeps into the shadows of my room.
Crawling on me like a cat, Not to wake a soul, but to Awaken.
Singing her tune, through the dust in the night light.
The terror of her icy hands running along my face and the stinging as they've reached into my soft mushy sleeping brain.
Sea foam.

Eyes open. Surface. Gasp.
Retrograde.
You can not fathom.



-Saree McClaran
Dec 2012.

The space between us may be vast, a blend of darkened hues. You're so shiny on the outside but hollow in, like the cathedral.
Choir cues, glisten between her thighs and the stars align.
Praise our son, so new, crisp like an unused notepad.
Drive your quill right through my soul.
Don't think that I don't know him because I'm not on my knees.

Everyone's flesh tastes best after wine.
Gently pressing
your face into my chest, let me hear you.
I was there when you born.

When you can walk no more I carried your weight and my own guilt. Which is more than you can say.
Let my voice sound out like the guns that start a war.
Let us all know that she was called a whore.
Palms down, Psalms down, Candles lit.
Home aflame and they ran for days.
Veil across my face, keep the sand from my eyes, and the tears at bay...

Praise our Savior Christ with his copper crusted halo and paper thin skin. You don't believe, because you don't let it set in.
You DO believe, but you don't know what you're reading.
All babies speak the language first.
With a raised fist.
A moral you must've missed.

Amen.
-Saree McClaran
Nov 30th 2012

Orange warmth floats and the dust in the sun spots looks like glitter. Crawling on the walls the shadows of autumn whisper heavily.
Go to sleep for the winter, the air is getting moist.
Relief of sighs, soft thighs, but we're out of time and I'm shoving myself through the doggie door into a hidden crawlspace.
Know that you shouldn't, but your heart aches.
Times when you used to have less, all the

gold in world can't keep you in place.
It's all rotted away, covered in a layer on dust and mold.
I have to peel you away.
Citrus skin. You've hardened with age. Wormhole.

-Saree McClaran
11-14-12

Twist and turn until you feel each bone break.
Fingers nimble, bitten by frost.
You reach down into the darkness.
Deep end, tidal waves, until you feel your spine.
Caress each sharp edge with your index finger.

Caress each sharp edge with your index finger.Teeth on a comb, and you can finally hear your song.

Never knew the words until I saw your face.

-Saree McClaran