Reach for that
which transports you,
reach for that moment
when you say
I do, and
adieu,
and then reach
your arms high until they
bury you.
A Relationship
Sitting beside each other
Easing slowly flatulence
And then the smell
Folds of skin
Glands of the crotch
Probing fingers
Prurient minds
Remembered moments
All the unspoken desires
Towards stasis
Sunglasses and flashlights
The wonder of a shared thought
Regret
Disorder, cruelty
Realizations of doubt
Momentary fondling
Of existence
(he could never whistle, never pitch the lips, form the silent flute, the air magically transcending into another sense: sound) and it sounded quite like (now matching the scene forming in his mind) the beaches of Sanibel where he spent the idle summers of his youth. And like the shells that toss golden in the surf, that crushed into the sand, their stages of life spread across the beach, so that as you walked with sharp pieces underfoot you accelerated the destruction of once beautiful forms,
Kiss
Focal point of the mouth,
axis of the face,
speaker of the mind,
gates of thought
together, two thoughts conversing.
Nimbus
Someone else said it better.
They said the arc is like a narrative,
Predictable in form.
Like a narrative, only life.
Rising to its peak
To dénouement.
This gleaming afternoon,
Whitewashed anew,
Its unintelligible language
As obvious as weather.
Oh Blue! Please.
Oh, God.
You turn, predictably,
To another hemisphere.
You will forget me, too;
You will return to your sunlit life.
A minor intrigue of moisture
Deepens several shades.
A civil war occupies
The upper reaches of air.
The next morning is clear.
Relations
Curly little heads,
Darling ideas.
Circular; you want to buy one.
It’s a boy, so
You shed your moons
Like compliments,
But father only watches you,
He wont touch you.
He’s indecisive, like nature.
You want a terrible force
To shake the moons
From you, to take you
Like the missing girl,
A thousand volunteers
To miss you.
Their darling domes,
Little snow globes
You crush like stepstones.