fragile things (2)

the fluttering of a leaf

the sound of sun declining

the tree 

in its coarse skin

my body, giving

the little creatures

a rustling, a scampering

the beast that I am,

trespasser 

a breath of

lushness and decay

the uninhibited song

the tickling intimacy 

the root like

a vein through rich soil

the night 

and fragile things

(my photo)

on edge

the other voice in your ear

little seductions, suggestions

like strobe light persistence 

of flash

then blindness

like a boxer’s jab

over and over again

wearing me down

like cold water dripping

the torture of repetition

slow, into madness

closer to the edge

not falling, but closer

where fear and pain frolic

where I find myself

little by little

more without you

(image from redlipstickresurrected.tumblr.com)

fragile things (1)

brown rice on the side / a dish shatters on the floor behind me / you recognize passing languages and accents / bottled water / the draping of your hair / cobwebs high on hanging ornaments / slower chewing / your seductive hands / that one shiny distraction / glances and conversation / no dessert / I tease about percentages / holding hands is home for a moment / we have an alibi for guilt, it’s called love / there’s no going backward anymore / tell me this / I want to hear it from you / the night / and fragile things

deluded

the day is a dream

and the hand in hand

is an apparition

faith in words is a

state of delusion

and I am deluded

love on the tongue

that loves another

repeats the motion

the dream ends as

the dream began

from nothing 

to nothing

(mirrorsinner.tumblr.com)

reduction

in glorious cosmetic numbness

under flaunted dyes obscenely 

spackled below mirrorball’d nights

how the sham-glam deteriorates

into early morning puddles of

costly hoax and lost ways

surrender now to dismay and grief

the delayed fog that settles in

unaccompanied and uninvited

this pharmaceutical-grade inclusion

often received chilled at last call

before the lights come on

and when they do

the world shrinks

(image from thewindowofthesummerhouse.tumblr.com)

morning kiss

temptress in morning light 

soft elegance in sigh approach

music in delicate arrival

first touch, euphoria

rhythm upon superlatives

swelling deeper this intensity

called hush in blooming silence

when at once, that kiss

(my photo)

awakening to thunder and absence, still reveling in the flow of you

whispers in the ear that stirred such raw laughter and memories of kissing your chin, your elbow, your inner thigh

we received each other in waves of entrance, entranced by lubricated mores and yeses

  an empty bed now

eggs for breakfast after first tastes of red curry at last night’s dinner when you thought you were too hard to handle

but silliness at your worst, adorable and genuine, and I handled you, didn’t I

at dinner, and afterward

red

and then

           red appears

gelled, drippings of lust

like blood under fingernails 

  those claws that rake

  desires down my back

red, deep

            like some throaty 

release, passion-borne, groin 

into chest onto spasmodic tongue.

lively, feisty and daring

red, pleasureful

    susceptibility and allowance

dire in the thrumming. the offer

bent over, gliding, grinding. soft

in desirous mid-moment smiles

red

     a curse-laced chant

unbeknownst to your subdued 

bulk of life. the unaccustomed

unaligned

  oh god

  oh ffffffuuuccckkk

then desolate, 

red

    a heart left behind when

time runs out. a heart

without body. incorporia

red

    the strength of holding on

one more time, one more day.

gripping. white-knuckled. raw

and wrought;

                        

                red, our

red

melding

(image from ex0skeletal-undead.tumblr.com)

apparition

I saw a white butterfly in the woods last night

against the backdrop of monotonous routines and familiar landscapes, one rare occurrence can make the most beautiful difference. angelic, it’s gift

this world has vile intentions. fang’d mouths open wide. resin polluting the once pure architecture. disturbances rupturing dreams and desires

I’m housed in precious moments. simplicities. the glimpse of a peculiar oddity. the fluttering hint of nature’s surrealism. the jovial smile of compassion’s spirit

my true reality is a wish at best. a brief pleasure that comes and goes, comes and goes

I’ve harnessed my thoughts to the white butterfly. I know not where it flies to next. I watch it dance, and then

like most things do, 

it disappears

(image from fineartamerica.com)

of thin air

the air I breathe is choking me

the walls are closing in

crushing me

but there are no visible walls

what makes this sun so special

what godship have we 

bestowed upon it

( what delusional beings we are )

and what of love and hate

admiration and jealousy

these things pulled out of 

thin air

  amusingly so.

the tapestry is

still being created

with craft and care

until the old hands tire out

(image from fineartamerica.com)

black ice

cruising along in our convertible gaiety, robust with certainty and harmonious intentions. you throw your hands up into the wind. my hat flies off. you laugh. I laugh. we laugh, like smug meets comedy meets the revved up engine of our getaway car. and away we go, barreling down the open highway as the moon is an eel’s eye slithering in the darkness. forever ahead of us. a coaxing guide into the labyrinth of folly. lunatics in grandeur, free-bathing in self-directed limelight and our own little world of appreciated chaos.

between your legs, my attendance, my obsession. between mine, your admiration, your arousal. deprived of no generalities and no particulars, we ease into the landscape enticed by the bite of union and harmony. we hold each other accountable. we hold each other in trust. whether bound to each other like tires to the hot summer pavement, or barely hanging on like tires spinning on black ice. our direction is forward, toward and into. despite chaos. despite order. we are willing participants of this greater gravity. you. me. us.

(image from pinterest.com)

6:9

tempests billowing

under eager skin 

of yours : of mine

pheromones in abundance

           in mystical dancing

              from head to toe

                and back again

breathe me in

                      from here

         as I breathe you in

from there

and tongues engage

a repertoire of nuances

precisions and explorations

flood me, sweet one...
desperate and generous,

and I too shall open up

with swirls and whirls uniting

we thrust the chorus of our duet

asunder

(image from pinterest)