Sunday, November 23, 2003

Exposure (revised from Open;24Sept03)

Inside smoulder singes sleek black shirt
with pencil tip, I open ruined garment
graphite slices into surface of my skin
peel back, peel back, exposing pack of ribs
tucking up to second knuckle
yank and crack
til ribcage stands ajar:
squeeze heart inside to burst upon the page
splatter blood and love and words
in equal parts.

Throat choked with emotion
spit self onto paper
wait for drainage through the pencil.

Love and light leak out
blood drips as slow molasses
seal my soul with signing of my name;
shirtless, empty, turn away
knowing I will soon be full again.

23 November 2003

Friday, November 21, 2003

Storm Warning

Collected rain in greasy
beads upon the doorsill,
air hangs hot and
wet like lover's kiss,
heaving breeze churns murk-sky
into mountains:
what kind
of a November day
is this?

19 November 2003

Wednesday, November 19, 2003


From first fumbling meeting
felt fast connection, fond affection
yet you flickered when I moved
too far into your space.
Too close, too close? What have you
to fear, when we stand
palm to palm and face to face?

We touch, we dance, we move as one
you snare me with your eyes
(oh, sweet brown eyes, the corners crinkled
killer twinkle, winking with your
flashy practiced smile, combination
smooth as cheese sends tremor
down my thighs.)

Sharing rides and meals and stories
astounding all the things
we found to talk about
drive you to your flight for "au revoir"
the kiss I didn't give you
still hovers on my mouth.

16 November 2003
Fresh Heart

Lightning fingers separating buttons
Silken fingers slipping under skin
Quicksilver fingers burrow through
tissue, organs, bone and sinew
touching tender heart that lies within.

Gentle fingers stroke it into rhythm
match yours beat for beat and rest for rest
Clever fingers coax it from my torso
hold it in your hands, first tight, then more so
your cupping palm and fingers form a nest.

If it should wither now from inattention
If you should careless break it into two
If you should tire of holding it whenever
do not hand it back, for I can never
reinsert it; far simpler to grow fresh heart anew.

13 November

Friday, November 07, 2003

Morning Mirror

Eyes a smutty smear with secrets savoring from sleep
Mouth a full-blown rose made for kisses dark and deep
Nose scenting phantom fragrance, sandalwood by name
Tumbled sable tangle that a hairbrush fails to tame
Each skin cell a-tingle, exhilarate entire body
Coaxed from slumber rife with sweet, and hot, and naughty
Gazing into glass, try to gentle down the mane
Ah! the seething evidence: I’ve dreamed of you again.

7 November 2003

Talk Talk

and if i'm painted scarlet by the people in your town
what care i for the whispers of, you know, she gets around
what care i, when the mask, which i thought would not decieve
seems to be the one that you're most likely to believe?

how shall i assure you of love you refuse to claim
-though you flinch away, my every cell soft sighs your name-
why should you be certain it's for you that my heart beats
when you can change your mind like some people change their sheets?

our hearts were twined before i ever fell into your face
our souls were one before we dared attempting an embrace
wrap yourself around me, or withhold, for what you do
will make me little difference; i will still be loving you.

7 November 2003