awaits…

you take me there
wherever there is
this drugery flees
for a heartbeat or two
I promise you
it’s s not boredom 
that tugs my hair
just the breath of you
or a million more 
changing me 
a drop of you 
turns into a hundred thousand
flooding my sex
this pattern cut
you so easily alter
either perfect
construction in one word
or seams ripped in silence
perhaps that song
you write
the one you hold
in you throat
awaits breathlessly 
eager to brush
against my skin

love’s winter…

It is ever graceful 
extension of my heart 
every curved edge
feathered softly 
stretching the expanse
to reach love
but it moves as I 
slightly afar from my grasp
yet close enough that
with every deep breathe
my lips 
my tongue
my lungs
are teased
it  has been
this way
for sometime
eventually 
living unloved 
will seize me
I won’t
survive…

love’s winter 

an ageless thing…

we spoke of age
and its
inconsistent
measure
young
old
truely I believe you 
it doesn’t matter
it is such an ageless thing
a concept only formed to fit 
the rule-makers design
oft in the mind of the 
passionless and disenchated
I, having been one
my own victim 
to my own murderess ways
minimizing my potency
I lost my way for a long while
yet I’m awakened
ageless
finding my way back to me

There once was a man…
who wanted me

redress me…

what are they anyway 
what good have these words brought 
except to bring such sweet torture 
honey drips from my womb
deliverance is silky as each syllable 
should slip across your tongue 
and redress my unworshipped altar 
I ask you; what you have engraved
upon with piercing eyes 
a color once unknown soaking deep 
into my bloodstream 
in this you have shaken me 
should you come awaken my lips
if ever they fall silently
these hours of knitted words
tethered and bound to my soul
will settle in your marrow
and wonder no longer
of missing home

longing to form…

I am not lost in dreams 
you very clearly running
through my mind
what you have gifted
where you write wisdom
lays in my chest
edging deeper 
underneath my ribs
dare I say again
I love you
what if it grows deeper
does that thought move you
nearby or distant 
if you palmed your chest
does my heartbeat
shore there 
love is not of fearful matter
nor a darkly stabbing place
it is inhaling another without strain
finding hesitation 
alarmingly beautiful 
right before lips come eagerly 
pressing 
it is that moment
everything will be known
if ever we will know
a kiss

longing 

in the morning my waterfall falls…

how is that on my day off
I wake up and not want to write
is it apathy, indifference 
maybe just uninspired
my muse sleeping
my love tucked away
my passion idle
I feel the neglect in my gut
as if I could abandon my pen
crawl back into old skin
put on that old facade of
Kansas plain
lackluster pallor 
winter pale
even christmas
seems determined dull
my mind was bended yesterday
full of contemplation 
my body too
desire aching 
evidence of scented sensuality 
and an obedience satisfied
pleasing to someone
to me
the sun is coloring me
changing the dark shadowed walls
of my grey room
warming up hope
for today
I know I will love
do love 
it spreads across these pages
these little 
scripted confessions
and poetry
of times & places
of people & secrets 
I love my vulnerability
it feels like 
I could type out the remains
of all my shards
my mosaic
ever progressing 
I don’t want to finish it in this life
Let me come back again
again & again
again a thousand times
carrying midnight & dawn
so he finds me
intimate in his solitude
whispered in his darkness
lovely in the newness
of  every spectrum of light
…and as I begin to flow 
let loose my waterfall
my layers are opening 
and how my voice
my words
my pen
are found again
never can they
lay empty 
long

symmetry…

there are

puzzles

a thousands pieces

ten thousand more

initially looking the same as any other

yet, in a lightening strike moment

 within the speck of light

 the edge catches your eye

maybe it has a slight deviation in shape

a deeper concave or larger salient

perhaps its color is more beautiful

a brilliancy

a feeling

your eyes can’t leave

this piece

with its edge

aligning to fit

intentioned

intended to slide into

the other piece you’re holding

quiet hestitation speaks in your heart

in the intimacy of an inhaling breath

you find you mirror

the piece’s edge