Lightning will pierce gray sky,
And thunder
Vibrate through precipitation.
But the whisper
brush of wind throughout
is both birth and abeyance
To cloudburst.
The storm that breaks
To reveal nights constellations.

The only thing's between us
Is ardent candlelight,
Th'smell of inexpensive wine,
'nd jazz that whisps like smoke
Through heavy air
Color laden
.
And yet, th'distance between us
Is akin the space between
The saxist lips and his woodwind,
The painist and bassist fingertips,
On black and white keys'n
Ever vibrating strings.
.
Closer than th'gapless notes that slip
From the vocalist voice and soul
Nd'nto the stream of sound
That we call music.
The space between us is
Timeless.
.
.
.
Soft and sweet, turbulent and full
Passion that drips like ripened nectarines.
I bite into you, and you into me,
Perfect euphony.
Consuming consummation
In equilibrium
Ever nourishing.

A rainstorm into an open field
Soaking my pigments with
Colors nonexistent;
You’re a solar storm,
Irradiating, enriching me
In serenity transcendent.
Otherworldly on my tongue;
You are a forgotten language
Awaiting translation,
Patience and understanding.
Someone to take the time
To comprehend your words
Unspoken and unread.
Trust me to hold you,
To listen and read
With consideration and delicacy.
Know that I’m here for you to
Whisper your unknowns in my ear,
And compose your silent correspondence
On my skin with your lips
Without fear.

Embers and ashes
Is what’s become of
The spark that aroused
The constellations between us.
What do you suggest
We do to reignite the universe
That we created at the meeting
Of our lips, the contact of our eyes
The sensations that traveled, lightning,
Over our skin?
Can we regain what was lost
When we feel so distant?
We touched ever so briefly like tangents
And despite the growing separation,
Still yearn for another again.
Is there a way to savor the moment
And hold it, bottled like wine
For some future time when the future
is not enough?
I yearn for more of your fingertips
Tracing over my depths, but I can’t
Deny the way we fade into the quiet...
Embers burning to ashes and dust
Is what’s left of us,