poem
walking
her home
she gives me a kiss
it hits my cheek
& warm ripples
spread over my face
when
i step behind her
the wind covers her
with her woman smell
& it is a good smell
like after making love
when the smell
of her snatch
in my beard
surprises me.
...for a rainy day...
kisses
we tried to save
pressed in books
like flowers from
a sun warmed day
only
years later to
open yellowing pages
to find those same
kisses - wilted and dry
...Help...
please world-
stop rolling-
i'm seasick-
where is my paper bag
i wanna get off