Curls & Philosophy

By Carlos Cardona

 

I dreamt I saw you smiling, laughing by the dance floor,
I dreamt I saw you laying by the bed by the door by the bright light,
And curls, your brunette curls on the pillow,
And me, flying 'round the room and landing on you.

Then we stand, we kneel, we bending like the willow tree,
We hold and hold, and when I start to faint with love,
Explosive ecstasy about to rip me in two,
I awake and think "now that, was close!"

So I start to look around of course,
But can't seem to find that lovely dream face,
And why can't I remember it more clearly?
I see a smile on a bed, and curls,
Those silky, brunette curls,
My sleek loveliness, where the hell are you?

Getting a drink and a paper towel,
Wiping sweat from the dance floor face,
Barefootin' at the Ballroom and it's crowded tonight,
Very crowded, never seen so many people here!
But then a standing face seems to turn and watch me pass,
I look, just another eye-lock, don't lock too long!
Then break it and you're off again.

And back to the action!
Jumping, swirling, grinding to the music,
Playing with your friends, smoking in the boy's room,
Raise Dionysus and make him say: Humans, get down!
Apollo sleeps tonight, the wild night is calling.

Towel time again, again and again,
Wipe the sweat and...
Eyes lock again? What's going on?
Drink and move closer...she talks to me!
An angel speaks and I answer, forgetting the curls,
Being, for once, exactly where I want to be,
The one that nerded her moves on,
Another rejection for one looking sadly used to it.
Friend, I know that feeling too.

And then we talk and talk,
But still I remember those brown dream curls,
That missing haircut of my dreams,
And I say: "And what do you know about curls and philosophy?"

Then leave, you must leave it for another day,
Sleep, wonderful sleep and...you again!
That dream face from last night!
Pushing away the face I had met tonight,
But loving me forever.

Is love birth, or is it death?
I know, I know. Always both.
Is that why they feel so similar?
Nothing left to lose?

Dionysus, called by many names,
Let this dream become your reality,
And may this same old creature never wake.