June
Sunrise
the tangerine sun
in the early sky
falls lazily on the earth
like a pouty child
who has not slept
a wink all night
in anticipation
of what lies in store
the next morning
Rush Hour
the haze that hangs over the summer city begins to collect
it wraps around each building, each street corner, each nostril of the people
who, side stepping the smell of piss and wine on those streets,
perspiration clinging to their brows as they dodge each other,
go in search of the perfect cup of mud
The Past
burn me
(with your cruel words)
push me away
taunt me
it only makes me
yearn
for you more
You
your lips, your eyes
pull me in
i want to feel
the softness of your skin
your voice
washes over me
likes waves making love to the sand
you stir the soul
within my breast
you
make me hope again
you
open my eyes
to a new morning
Cemetery
darkness pervades
the ground, cloaked with a saturnine pall
speak to me
noble taciturn stones
tell me
who came before
and why they fell asunder
were it greed or sloth or passion
weakness of the flesh
that tore them from this world
teach me
their secrets preserved in the ruddy earth
so that i may longer keep my vessel above the ground
Touch
copious flesh mounds
quiver at the touch of hands
strong forceful tender
Stolen Pleasures
the rise of your hips
swings almost imperceptibly
within the soft folds of cloth
that separate you
from me
stillness
of your breath
of my heart
the delicate arch of your neck
beckons me
to press myself to your body
to feel the electricity
only sex emits
i breathe deep
breathe you in
your fragrance
delights me
enflames me
and i cling to you
savoring the moment
our rhythms in sync
before you move on
December
Untitled
the long strong curves of his fingers
tentatively touch
the silent sullen ivories -
softly
sweetly
he strokes them
they purr quietly in reply
begging him to handle them -
deftly
deeply
he presses against them
and the sound of their seduction
rising - falling
torture - bliss
is almost more than he can bear
Haiku
subtle seduction
fingertips brush cheek gently
mental explosions
generation
goddess-like i sit
chemicals collide
in my sterile pseudo-womb
chain reactions
flick and stir
heat and cool
building blocks congeal
knitting together the back bone of life
in a test tube