Thy curve hath taught
the rosewood how to sing
and my fingers
long roughened by cedar
grow gentle upon thy hips
returning unto the edge of thy ebony
Through forty harvests
rain hath polished
snow hath kept
the sun made sweet the grain
Lo, the wood thrush calleth
from the bough
where once this timber
drank the morning
Thrice I say unto thee
I love thee—
And another ring
God closeth
in the heartwood
=======
little hairs on her knees,
always hard to shave, I suppose
the mascara smear
below her right eye
after she laughs
at a bad joke in the breakroom,
the fork she ate the pasta salad with,
now in the sink,
the splattered freckles
on deep-bronzed shoulders
I ignore these specifics
I maintain focus
on more important things
I make my deadlines,
I watch the news,
my kitchen is always clean,
I wear sunscreen,
I trim my beard accordingly,
I am always emotionally prepared
to evade sentimentality
wherever possible
Dorinda is always late,
her bun slightly left-of-center,
she should wear more green
and maroon to compliment
her hazel eyes, but she doesn't
I find satisfaction in work,
the constant rush,
standing just close enough to her
in the elevator every day,
up and down for five minutes
is enough
Dorinda always smells
like tangerines and vanilla
the quiet of shared space,
that is enough for intimacy
in our elevator
before the moaning of traffic,
before the smell of leftover curry
waiting for me at home,
clean silverware,
a well-kept bed
To be kissed by moonlight
And caressed by stars,
Draped in darkened blue,
Dancing from Jupiter to Mars.
To be found by the light of the moon
And loved under a blackened sky.
Let the sun forget about me;
For it never heard me cry.
But there’s something special about moonlight,
Like it was made just for me,
Because no matter how bad things are,
I have the moon as company.
Show me the maps etched in your skin,
the ones the world wasn’t meant to see.
I know the syntax of a wound...
the dialect of the "almost" and the "used to be."
Not the scars of a stumble or a fall
but the weight of a name, a night, a wall;
The words that settled like silt in your chest
until they became the rhythm of your rest.
The deepest hurts don't always bleed;
They manifest in the things you don't need...
In the way your laughter cuts off at the edge,
in the silence you use as a sharpened wedge.
I see the flinch before the touch,
the way you give, but never too much.
Turning your eyes to the floor or the door
before the heart can ask for more.
Show me the jagged, the worn and the deep,
The secrets your silver scarred memories keep.
You aren't a puzzle or a "difficult" soul,
just a story that had to fight to be whole.
For those who have walked through a sunless spark
are the only ones who can see in the dark.
Your eyes are twin harbors where the oldest light resides,
Where tidal kindness softens all my sharp and rocky sides.
Your presence melts the permafrost that long encased my soul,
And in that thaw, a universe begins to shape its roll.
Our bodies weave a tapestry of breath and whispered sound,
Where every guarded inch of me is sacred, hallowed ground.
You are the undiscovered coast my compass yearned to find,
The quiet, steady gravity that re-aligns my mind.
My thoughts of you are phantom limbs that ache with phantom grace,
A constant, humming resonance no memory can erase.
You are the first, the final word, the sentence and the plea,
The only language that my heart was ever meant to be.
Then as our lips converge, a charge ignites my mortal frame,
And in that flash, I am unmade and whisper your new name.
If you shrink to compactness, I’ll put you in my pocket
If you grow big and towering, I’ll climb into your sleeve
If you whisper gently, I’ll lean in close, intently
And close I will stay
A whisper away
Because you are me
and I am you
And whatever you name me
I will answer to
And if you can fly
I can too
If you’re a bird, I’m a bird
Just because you don’t see beauty
in the softness of my body
doesn’t mean beauty isn’t here.
Just because your eyes stop
at my size,
doesn’t mean another man’s won’t keep going
won’t see me,
all of me,
and call it breathtaking.
I could be the kind of attractive
that makes someone grateful,
the kind of woman
someone looks at and thinks,
how did I get so lucky?
And if you think intimacy
is limited to one version of desire,
one narrow idea
of what it’s supposed to look like…
then maybe you’ve never met someone
willing to explore,
to learn,
to love creatively.
Someone who doesn’t treat my body
like an obstacle,
but like a place
to worship.
Someone who finds ways
to be close,
to be tender,
to be hungry for me
without needing me to shrink.
Because the truth is
your inability to want me
is not proof that I am unwanted.
It’s only proof
that you were never the one
meant to hold me.
I memorized your metaphors
As you laid me down
And beheld my beauty,
Studying every contour of my leaf.
With gentle urgent hands
you pruned
the cherry-colors of my bounty.
You pressed your face against my petals
Aromatic and entrancing,
I shivered when the warm air
Escaped your lips,
Delighted to taste my nectar
And the dew upon my trembling petals
Showed the efficacy of your masculine touch.
That visit to my garden where you
Plucked me,
From the land of exotic floral,
Like the scent of a fragrant flower
It remains celestial.
Darkness falls across the shadowed halls of intimacy she takes her final breath.
She leaps into the murky waters of death, leaving behind her lovely fragrance of beauty, self proclaimed fame and one lonely child.
To fend for himself in this world of massacre. Darkness falls across the shadowed halls of intimacy.
Where are we going with this lonely twisted modern day masscarade called society. We think of others only judging ourselves against what is believed to be our true selves.
Darkness falls across the shadowed halls of intimacy. Intuition so it is said should guide us through. Subconscious then may not be true.
Although race religion culture and creed may tear us apart there is one thing holding us together as human beings.
Love, for love is the battle that will forever be fought but will never truly be won. Love will always burn the flames that ever so stretch the lengths of eternity.
Darkness Falls across the shadowed halls of intimacy.
-Jim Morrison Jr ©?2002
As at the opening of a hidden bistro,
the moment before stepping onto a narrow side path, cliff-shaped—
waking the color-warmed buttons
of clothes that slept, cradled on a hanger,
standing before a mirror that flows toward you,
the tremor of seeing myself in your eyes.
The first path simmers a cloud-loosened sea into a latte,
flowing toward the distant beloved…
My Love
How do you expect me to survive
For I am thirsty of your saliva that I deeply suck from the walls of your lips.
While pumping mine from the hills of my chest
I'm trembling for my stomach is starving
The feeling of your hard wooden spoon feeding my mouth down the valley,
Gives energy to my legs and power to my heart.
Believing one day you will feed my mouth and satisfy my stomach and I shall never want to eat again.
You cup my face, and ease my mind
You sway my hips and make me rhyme
You contradict my silent death
And dissolve my selfish pride
I want you to know that you will always be apart of my life
There's no one who could fill your shoes and fill them right
True we may have had our share of ups and downs
You would always be a treasure that I've looked for and found
You have left marks and signatures that became apart of me
You have helped me to learn this new person i came to be
You had patiently listened to me as I cried
You didn't try question me or ever ask why
You were able to understand me when no one else did
When I didn't want to talk I ran to you and hid
I had always shared with you things that I was ashamed of
Having relationships with others was never enough
They weren't able to learn me as a person the way you had
They didn't understand my silent words or able to make me laugh
We spoke with our eyes and knew each other's emotion
When it comes to different ideas we shared the same notion
I've was always accepted by you and was able to be myself
I would never find these exact qualities in anyone else
Me—
not just my body
but my sadness,
my longing
fragility
and strangeness.
You—
your skin
shame and sorrow,
your wounds
and your weight
toward the sky.
Skin to skin.
Skin to sky.
Your thoughts
they reach
then spiral,
your breath
it spills
into mine.
Breath to breath.
Skin to skin.
Skin to sky.
Your bones
hold my bones
they shape
silence,
our hearts
beat bare
ribs to dirt
ribs to stars.
Breath to breath.
Beat to beat.
Skin to skin.
Skin to sky.
No hope.
No past.
No time.
Me and you—
all is here.
All is now.
Breath to bones.
Beat to dirt.
Skin to Sky.
tender smile glows softly
golden light drifts through mind
caress lingers still
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