Short Tourniquets Poems

Your seawater stirs in me where fire balances high on oil
You clasp my candlefire, wick's motioning coil — 

A sweating kind of missing
A burned open kissing

The glass shared between us two
Flames in our faces as we move

To the synchrony past
Our dressing these masks

These temperatures rising in veins of you and I
God, brief tourniquets in time — 

Where I drown my highbrow in your heat
This hard body now heartbeats

This translation
My intoxication
...

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Unfettered passions congeal with confusion
each night as in darkness, my mind's journey roams
depths of desire, deviant and untrusting
leaving me despair.

Twisting tourniquets ever-tightening grip
as urges of fantasy relieve torment
in tranquil pools of obsession, life falters
yet intensely grows.

Weeping rivers cast onto downy cushions
meet their demise in sonant voiced billowed plumes
that cosset my fatigued head with caresses
of indulgent dreams.

JF March 16, 2009...

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