honey let me show you pretty words
let me strum your veins
feel the tinkle of my chimes
let the letters make love to you
they know about your dimples
not just the ones on your face
and they know about the way your voice
plays on waves like a sparrow
let them flutter on your tongue
like mine
and know you are incredible
let them prod at your mind
and dream of adequacy
for your intellect is dizzying
let fairy dust dance on your nose
because you must be magic
let me love you
let these words love you

I wanna look dark
Like mascara shadows under you eyes
After Friday night
And I want to wear night colors
And a sinister knowing smirk on my face
And the guys will be like
"Damn I wonder"
"She looks poisonous"
And maybe I will be
And I wanna light the bowl
And flutter my eyes while I do it
And I'll look so jaded when I laugh
Black shorts dark top dark shoes
Dark room for dark me and you
I wanna have purple nails
And a nose ring!
Haha

I’m afraid of the ocean when its waves rush forward,
its translucent arms wrapping around the impressions of my feet..

The ocean is a mother giving birth,
life surging forward and then receding in the swirls of salt and sun.

Measureless
Its belly has captured the souls of sailors and broken ships.
Ghosts drag on the bottom floor choking on their entrails.

A 15th century wood-hulled ship is their playground,
And they gnaw on the golden coins that flutter down onto each floor
as the wood shrivels with the weight of plankton.

She is the undertow
And she is the rip current.
She surrounds us
And we will never escape her.

Watching the curtains flutter was relaxing,

the window was open wide letting in a breeze,

it was evening but the air was warm,

and there was a strong smell in the air,

a summer smell,

it was one of those intense nostalgic kind of smells,

that flare up emotions with old memories,

and people in the gardens were laughing and drinking.

We were lying down on a mattress on the floor in your dad’s room,

both naked,

my pale white skin touching against your beautiful Arabic skin,

the colour of coffee.

A perfect mixture, sweet coffee and milk,

surely we were made for each other?

And you had your tiny arm wrapped around my waist,

your soft hand holding my chest,

and on my back I could feel your small breasts,

and your lips breathing hot breath down my neck

I was almost asleep.

A construct of mine.
What that eye contact causes.
Arcing across senses without any pausage.
                                                                    Wicked I say.
                                                                    Baby wants to play.
Money can't by it
Needs no rehearsal.
Once you lock in there is no reversal.
                                                                    I'm into the gritty now
                                                                    Babes way past pretty now.
The heat is on.
She is speaking my lingo.
Bingo.
                                                                    To be or not to be
                                                                    That is the question.
An infinity wasted..
Come hither post haste
But slow your roll. This is butter
                                                                     Did I hear my soul stutter?
                                                                     Joltage can make your heart
                                                                     Flutter.
I want you now.
Jitters.
Here we go.
                                       You know what I mean.
                                      When nothing but nothing.
                                      That Jolt is off the hook.

Of the chain.
I walk.over.
A live wire.  
                                     A humming sound.
                                     Eyes push past 20/20

Hi.

Parallel to you who finds comfort in the light,
I find peace where you flutter, in the depths of night.

You’re chased and swatted and hurtled outside,
I do hope you can find somewhere bright to hide.

For my darkness is my contentment, peaceful, serene
My mind falls absent, happily empty of the obscene.

Does the darkness outside, fill you with trouble and worry
Like the impending rising sun sets my mind a flurry?

Oh wise old moth, please stay as long as you need,
My bedside lamp can be your refuge, no need to plead.

You don’t have to tell me why you’re here, or open up to me,
Cause your presence here alone is a pleasure to see.

In twenty-four hours you’ll be looking for new lights to borrow
But please remember, wise moth,

I’ll be awake and lonely again tomorrow.

spring night…
moth wings flutter
the porch light