Wishful Androgynous Lust

In darkened skies -the moon, the stars- they glow,
My heart, my soul, my bed belongs to you.
Eyelids shut and thence, thy sensual dew.
Beguiling scent; tight cords that bind my bones.

Stifled by sweet lips, the groans and moans…
An angel’s face, no doubt, the devil’s deal!
Charming eyes of fiery passion brew,
My wish, as such, for spinning Earth to slow.

At daylight’s prod, I see you nowhere here,
Beknown to me, enslaved by night-time’s bid.

Dire desperate lust, my futile tears.
To thrive, in other’s dreams, you need to feed.

Henceforth, pray I, the bleedin’ sun to die
Till then, my nightly visions, live to lie.

First focus on the title, “Wishful Androgynous Lust”. Obviously the first and last words are clear in meaning, whereas the centre word is meant really to be ambiguous. The gist of it refers to my desperation for love, so much so that I feel submissive; so much so that I’m not sure if I’m confusing it with lust.

In darkened skies -the moon, the stars- they glow,

My heart, my soul, my bed belongs to you.

The first line emphasises my feeling of deep infatuation. Hence explaining, the rambling and overstatement of what I see. The next line professes my desperation to that certain someone. The mention of the word ‘bed’, although ambiguous, hints that I’m about to sleep.

Eyelids shut and thence, thy sensual dew.

Beguiling scent; tight cords that bind my bones.

The moment I close my eyes I smell the distinct scent(sweat) of my certain someone. And somehow this scent acts as a device to bind me. This sonnet is based on my experience of sleep paralysis; I lie down sometimes and almost immediately go into lucid hallucinations where I’m totally immobile.

Stifled by sweet lips, the groans and moans…

An angel’s face, no doubt, the devil’s deal!

The first part should be suggestive enough to be understood. Then the next is my realisation that beyond that pleasurable facade there must be a catch. Nothing is for free.

Charming eyes of fiery passion brew,

My wish, as such, for spinning Earth to slow.

Despite the catch, I relish in the illusonary increasing passion, wishing for time to slow.

At daylight’s prod, I see you nowhere here,

Beknown to me, enslaved by night-time’s bid.

At daybreak I awake from the dream, knowing as ever, it is only a dream; a slave to the night.

Dire desperate lust, my futile tears.

To thrive, in other’s dreams, you need to feed.

Thereafter, my emotions of desperate desire act up at the fact that I am only wanted by whoever in my pathetic dreams. I personify the whoever in my dream state as a parasite, fufilling its need on the dreams of its victim.

Henceforth, pray I, the bleedin’ sun to die

Till then, my nightly visions, live to lie.

Despite everything I learn about the dream and how pathetic it is, I want the night to last forever; I want to dream for eternity; I don’t want the dreams to be just dreams…

- Logish