An unwelcome visitor
presses a blade to my back
cold dullness spontaneously morphing
into searing steel
only to fade when it tires of its torment
just long enough
to remind me of how
peace used to feel.

Modern-day shamans
with their numbing potions
have yet to discover
the difference between pain and feeling
leaving me to choose
all-in or all-out.

Or maybe that’s the point
I think dully
as I sail into the afternoon’s torpor
intoxicating warmth
rushing through my veins
a blanketing fog of relief
descending to release me
from the visitor’s grasp.

If I could just pause right here
before the numbness overwhelms…
but then it does, and that thought
becomes my new nemesis.

Where are the goddesses
who promised to heal me instead
with songs and dances
sensual and feverish
swapping these sheets damp with pain
for their tantric embraces
magic touches borne of love and lust?
I wait for their deep kisses
praying they are not
the devil’s deliriums.