Richard Blanch - A Liminal Fantasy: Between

Between sleep and waking.
Between self…………….

Unrest comes sweetly in the dusk
Of dreams, dressed in the musk
Of plangent desires, of pleasures unblessed
By either staring day or striving night,
Untrammelled, unconfined by what cannot be
In the blank realms of dank reality.

Haunting the shades of the brain, a paradox,
A dark guest, comes to greet me. A secret jest
At the expense of sun and moon,
A feral mockery, urbane, foxy,
Hides in those eyes.
A soft caress which teases, ‘Never’
(But in this trance-time I imagine, ‘Soon’)
Loosens my thighs.

The tests
Of the world mean nothing here.
All that is day, bright and clear
Is banished from my breast.
All that is night, numb and sightless
Gone from my mind. I am unconfessed,
Undone, ungendered, all sins unredressed,
Absolved from the ugly blight of righteousness;
Never, while kind drowsiness
Permits, to fight meaningless,
Unnecessary battles. A light, dewy
Liminality divests
Me of all needs but one: a supple sinuous
Seeking, in this boundless space, a quest-
To be embraced and lost, unsought, unguessed.

Richard Blanch

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