my androgyne

Something is buzzing in my brain
a literary hum
portraying and waiting
beneath the sidewalks
I am pounding on my way to you.
I will lay scrawling on your velour
velvet violet encasing my fingers
in cracks
filled with pennies and plastic
and orange rinds
from Christmas past.
The smell lingers on toes
even after morning's shower.
Moon winks unscrupulously from the window
leaving me breathless,
and my androgyne spectre
leading by fingernails
drags downward into sweet deep blues.
Kenning the sun will rise,
and eyes awoken by siren's red wail,
grasped by the hair and drug to the surface
waking shore,
and carried gently by my androgyne
to the truth's sunrise.