knock knock

a bouquet of dreams a wrapped hope a warm fuzzy something a kindred a flashing screenplay a hot air balloon always on fire a reward for nothing a display of affections a tap dancing that resonates a subtle hint that more is coming i'm here, i'm coming, i'm opening! as we knew you would - the face behind the display smirks; plots, wait it out till time lengthens, elongates does not hit the midnight strike no moment of clarity; just joyous abundance as the guest makes chat, talk, gestures, tendrils, fingers snake inside to reach, to grope deeper, to adjust, to unhinge, to pry apart inner workings once unspoiled, on the trajectory towards boredom, towards steadiness - who wants that? when tempting offers come about! time slows, the mind adapts body grows fat, stupid, lazy no midnight strike, just a dull sense of something being fixed: no red flags. just a guest putting hands on elbows as if in comfort - i hear you. funny, fuzzy warm heat spreads dazzled, sluggish, happiness trickles still no orange, no red, just stupor when dreams are just dreams, hopes metamorphosize, a kindred uses; a turncoat, a flashing doubt, with hot air always heated burning - too hot, but the promise is met, not exactly what you wanted, kind of late now to change one's mind when a guest has you chained a payback, a display of hate, with a tap dancing like a drum beat too harsh for the heart to withstand; a glaring statement there's hell to pay and a devil transforms from light, time halts, time stills it is the midnight hour and gifts are finally seen for what they are. a price, a cost, a transaction - a soul nurtured, tendered, nourished by the guest you fell in love, in lust with does it matter now? the deed is done, the payment went through, knock, knock hell's hungry.