You asked me. Did you write that poem about our hands ( Read more... )

Villanelle

Repeating Line: “Your body I want” from Michael Ondaatje’s “Speaking to you (From Rock Bottom)

I see it in your hips, it is,

Your body I want.

When you leave, it’s your skin I miss.

It’s in your heart I kiss,

Should it be my desire I flaunt?

When I seek the feeling of bliss.

I see it in your eyes, it is,

Your body I want.

When you leave, it’s ( Read more... )

White room, sterile sheets

Hands, praying, clasped in laps

Muffled voices, whispered secrets

Forced, strained, against your will

Penny candies from gift shops

That sells more than just flowers

Helium balloons float skyward, contained by

Medicine smells, dark corners

Hum and clang of ice collecting in buckets

Squeaky wheel, WD-40

Color screen, flashing scenes

( Read more... )

When I looked into your eyes, I knew ( Read more... )

The thin tough body under the pyjamas
locks to met like a magnet of blood
How long was he standing there
like that, before I came?

I remember the moments on the beach
the wind whipping her hair into soft curls
We collected seaglass in qhite buckets
clutching the handles between our sandy fingers
I remember our visits to farms and petting zoos
The beauty of ( Read more... )

Ode to the paper bag

I was so lonely, until you came along.

I felt so empty, until you filled me whole.

I was whisper quiet, and you became my song.

And now you, you have filled the hole.

I shall keep you safe, and never abuse you,

There is no need for you to wander,

I will be your savior, and never misuse you,

For your love I will never squander.

With ( Read more... )

A burning mouth.

The passionate kiss

A whisper in an ear.

The moment missed

The slow, sweet smiles

of a lovers glance

The quick, rough touch

of a fiends hands

A reason to feel.

The grinding hips

A curve of the back.

The parting lips

The breath on the neck

of an opportunity to sin

The heat of love,

of a ( Read more... )

I'm afraid ( Read more... )

Do this now. because I said so ( Read more... )

I ride the bus often. And often I see little miracles of hope ( Read more... )