Kissing you is hard not to do
The perfect trail up your neck
The glistening of your chapped lips
The way our bodies synch
Into needing to be closer
With my lips and our tongues
Wriggling in pleasure under me
Passing time by so fast
All I want is to pause time
You dont have to stay still
Your legs move in equal rhythm
Grasping at comfort and warmth
Coziness in our nature
Perfect puzzle pieces
Confusing clamor
Of finally kissing you again
Simply because its hard not to.
While slowly taking infinity slowly.

i am actually quite a raging hurricane.
i have things slew precariously on the cluttered floorboards
of my mind,
and i trip on things with throbbing toes
thrown into the caverns
of my hollowed bones
constantly.

i mistake "ie" for "ei" in
words i should know the meaning of,
and find myself gagging on the
knowledge of which way is left and which is right.
i lose myself in the dawn,
and then i have to find my way back home during the mornings
stumbling through the wet grass
and acrid manure
soft, strained yellow rusting on wilted daffodils
left cut on cement after a night of rain.
i have no sense of direction,

and maybe this is why i can't determine
right from wrong.

i have no built in moral,
just an empty piece of new-skinned, unworn brain
where my patience and good deeds lie sleeping.

the only thing i have to soften my
naked sin and lustful greed is love,
coursing inside my arteries
like a raging river of fire,
burning skin where
people touch.
i cook callouses with it,
give the sun something
to envy.

burnt ashes were houses,
and now they lay smothered and leaking
with dripping,
coal
remains.

i'm not a mess,
i'm just a storm.

All in all is it just a matter of time ?
Speaking to me in the easy breathes of sighs
I fear no sirens in my house of light
Even shadows of light cast pictures of



Negative space, speaking for itself
         Oh to  
B.  b. b.       Be where you can
See inside windows , of pentacles
             Simple opportunity
To reverse the hanged man, in the shadows
             Of the corners of the ceiling


But how this sets in as normal
And my fingers flow immortal
I can venture inside the vines
And uncover the sleeping Buddha
As long as the blue hovers over
My Nirvana , above and beyond hope
Home,
             Speaking now,
                                        with a smile.

Here in the  ***** of good heart
I did space my sleep out between the sun
And its hiding place,  the other side
The way our hands fit, or sleeves slide down
Revealing flesh to the cones and rods of my eyes
Relieving under the flesh, your ******* torment
Was a lonely winter for both of us , but we can breathe now and clear our aching heads
The blue mountains reflecting our own dimension
And our friend the sun rising yet again
To mark the end of easy sleep
And the beginning of a new spring.

I cannot remember who used to call me Darbels.
A dorky nickname, that somehow I adored.
I can her the voice faintly in the back of my head,
but I can't seem to figure out who it belongs to.
An old teacher, perhaps.
A childhood friend's father?
A good friend I once had?
It's driving me mad.
I am losing my mind,
and all I want
is for someone
someone
to just call me Darbels
again.