a visit with a wheel

I wake up searching for your body

the weight and mass like a building by the park, a landmark, a recognizable corner.

On the couch
whose couch? on the guest couch

alone

where is she?
who am I expecting? 

my eyes squeeze shut as my spinning blob body and my dream self mash back into a human blood and guts and soul body.

Reunited, dizzy, I am here on the island, in the guest room, on the white couch. 

Who am I looking for?

Who am I missing?        spinning

All I want to do is cry.
I am terribly sad. I am kicked in the stomach alone.

All day my dreams will haunt me.

We will go for a drive and I will cry

I remember her coming here last, her calling from the ferry, her laughing with my mom in the kitchen.
Her laughing

I feel like an amputee

I so solidly want to believe in it, I feel the phantom weight tugging me, 

my heart organ is crushing, it pumps tears out of my eyes like warm sprinklers

I am always crying on this couch.

My mouse trap body always does this- the missing parts ignighting the gasp- 

the kick in the stomach 

the quick inhale, the sledge hammer heart

the water park face with the turnstile tangle hair 

eyes stinging of chlorine

a mess in the parking lot after everyone goes home.

If I have a home maybe it's this white couch.

If I were to feel safe perhaps it should be here.

Last night she came into my dreams
 I was so afraid of her, I ran out of the club without pants or shoes on, down the white hall, terrified.

she chased me

and told me.

We both had the huge ferris wheels lit up inside
still spinning
after all this time.

 Like metal hamster wheels, cold, welded, that real, that simple.

We had believed the size and speed would dwindle over time, but they didn't, they whirled and cranked out lights and color and sound everyday. The spinning was constant.

It had been so terrible for us both to live with that      SPINNING

inside everyday

to try and ignore it 

we each had it, twin fariswheel chakras of energy, love, passion, magic, hope, future

spinning inside.

2 twin wheels of longing.

Why will it not fade? How can I muffle that terrible sound?
All it is is ache.

I was afraid, just like before but this time, pants-less and dream dipped- I didn't care
I could see it so clear, it matched mine

 nothing outside mattered cause I could see the spinning 

it matched mine perfectly, 2 cardboards cards flipped over. same same.

I cried, blood dripped down my thighs, she held me,
she came back.

in her truck we began again.

we were together 

finally.

We both cried as we spun together like a puzzle piece hamster race.

She looked like Elvis in her truck, in a leather jacket. I sat beside her in my huge pajama shirt and
bare legs streaked with blood, face dried with salt.

I woke up expecting her
looking for her.

Alone in dream island
alone on couch island
this morning across the carpet horizon,  


a desperate S.O.S.