O, an obsidian eye peering into the depths of my infinity The pink of U the aroused blush on my tongue— moist and turgid I, a bridge into places— blue and willowy surrendering to an unknown sky Red A, a pyramid of delight— you are reckless, bloody and without fear E, you come to me,…
No, sir, I am not interested in taking your survey. I am interested in taking my time. No, sir, I have no need to “get rich quick” unless it somehow comes through honey dripping slowing on my tongue and down my chin. No, sir, I have no desire to ACT NOW! For I am listening…
oh! the uncontainable luxury of a spacious saturday morning as we stretched out on your bed limbs entangled skin to skin we spoke of the spaciousness of the land of man’s need to contain it and the earth’s persistence in asserting herself i– drew a pattern on your beautiful back to illustrate a river’s path…
Let my life not be measured by gold or productivity or towers built for someone to later knock down Instead, let it be measured by the number of kisses on my neck, my forehead, my lips (and elsewhere). Let my life be measured by the number of times I have heard or spoken the words…
Robins wrench worms from the softening earth, trilling songbirds pour their song into the wide sky, Narcissus flirt with vibrant skirts and a thousand shades of green dance in ardent winds. Oh Spring! Penetrate me with your turgid madness! I surrender.
I do. I do bruise easily. I often like bruises in strategic places on my body but on my heart, not so much. The words that both scare the fuck out of me and that I most want to hear (with the right person) are: “When can I see you again?” I feel so vulnerable…