Free Walking the Sleep by Mark McGhee

won’t be enough for your tortured whore of a soul, trust me.
    There’s so much more to feel and suffer.
    That which isn’t yours will become yours because you stared too long. And watch with fascination the wandering, you’ll be in there’s when yours is standing outside the door knocking.
    I’ve begun to see why Sam stays put. Maybe he has it right. Find a place to keep from wandering. Stand behind the counter and watch the dead and alive pass by. Watch with bemusement and know the horror of their lives compares nothing to waking from the sleep to the ravens pecking the flesh of your soul.
     
     
    I lay on the floor of a vomit and piss stained bar watching a man get a broken pool cue shoved through his neck. The blood sprayed my face like a hole in a garden hose. I watched his face turn from anger, to fear, to resolve in five seconds as he slumped to the ground. The ravens screaming in the parking lot. The doors slammed and locked. The windows covered. The tarps and Windex appeared out of nowhere and the burlap sack dragged oozing into the back room. I walked out into the daylight of screaming ravens. One swooped down screaming murder at me. Too close. I grab the black wing at the last second, snap it, pull his black eye close to mine, I bite hard through the putrid oil feathers and my mouth is filled with the filth of angry blood.
    I bite hard as his cohorts scream threats, dive in and out, grabbing pieces of me, in a flock of black filth and screaming. I stand and bite, chew, and spit, until I have the huge head in my hands. Black blood drips from my lips. I spit and run. Laugh. I slip it into my pocket as the threats and screams shriek over my head.
    And sitting again at the pier in San Clemente. She walks slowly towards me, floating on air. Light brown hair with tinges of sun bleached blond. Dark skin tanned in the sun. She is longer legged than I remember. Sunglasses shade her eyes. The smile is the same as I always remembered. I watch every step. I watch as she stops to kneel down and stare at little girl in a flowered sundress. And it is 1980, 1990, and it is 1969, and it is so many times because I cannot keep my mind straight. She stands and looks directly at me. The smile again. And I know finally who she is.
     
     
    “What are you doing here?”
    She smiles.
    “Took you long enough to get things straight.” She smirks and my heart falls to my stomach.
    “I always loved you, Paul. I would have done anything and everything for you I would have never cheated on you.”
    “I know.”
    I begin to weep.
    I feel the tears flow down my face but as I cover my face I peek through my fingers fearing she will disappear forever. She stands before me. She stoops down and pulls my hands from my face.
    “It’s ok. Don’t cry.”
    “Did you die?”
    “Yes.”
    “Why are you here?”
    “For you, for me, I can’t say exactly but I’m about done.”
    “I loved you more than anything I ever knew.”
    “I know. That’s why I came.”
    “I’m so sorry. I lost everything when I lost you. I lost my soul.”
    She stands up and I hear children laughing. The waves crash against the pier, a soft motion of the water moves the pier and I am reeling. She bends down and ruffles my long brown hair. She runs her fingers through my hair. I realize I have hair again after shaving my head for so many years. My hair thick and laying on my shoulders in thick sun-bleached surfer style. I look up into her soft brown eyes. She bends and kisses my forehead.
    “It’s ok.”
    “Will I ever see you again?”
    “I don’t know, Paul, I can’t say.”
    “Thank you. I love you.”
    “I know. I love you, Paul. Everything will take form and purpose. I don’t know how but it will…goodbye…”
    I watch her walk on her air. Steps long and beautiful, fluid, and graceful. She stops to kiss a little boy on the head. And I sit and weep. I weep. I lay on the filth of the pier and stare into the sky.
    And I cry until I cannot, then I