i watched as she picked
up her shadow like a baby
and rocked it i didn't understand
like a black lab laid down by
the front door for 20 years,
waiting to be seen, touched,
it submitted with a low sigh.
"The heart of darkness isn't
darkness", she said to the wallpaper,
glancing up from her bundle,
"the heart of darkness is
authenticity, the heart of
authenticity is love".
she didn't speak after that
the moment was not for me and
i was suddenly an intruder.
Quietly, i stood up
and slid away.

The slow expand of your pupils
was a synonym for love in
the greatest minimalist sonnet
ever writ.

Over the board, your faces urges 'your move',
I look down at my row of letters
weigh the points
and know you've won.

I would like to feel again
Burst abruptly from this cocoon of numbness I find myself in
Ice Queen.
Eskimo ***** is mighty cold or so I've been told
Lucky me no Inuit runs through these punch drunk crazy veins
The taste of blood, copper and meaty, is sharp on bitten lips
The facade of laughter, worry
The years that stand between us
Are held up for scrutiny
You are always lacking
I am always wanting
It is our way
Now I find us at a crossroads
Another path blossoms thick and heavy with unkempt erotica
Dripping silky sweet between the sheets
It is one I will walk alone, living sin
Our path is ripe and full
Surprises swinging around every corner
My every desire obtained
Going to sleep lonely but repeat
Such is the choice of a woman
Or is it?

The tea cup clouds were reason enough.
Reeling, the clock hands spun on an axis wobble
noon flirted with night
and I broke into a run
as the sky opened its maw
and screamed.
Even the suits scramble for burrows.
Retrospection always has a punchline.
Hide away, slide away
Stop looking at my *******, please.
Now watch wide-eyed behind
public glass, with a
sitcom gang of affable protagonists
who are now late for their respective chapters
Staring at their phones, willing the weather
forecast to telepathically change.
The light strobes, the bricks quiver sympathetically
and I riddle a fourteen year old pantheon
as they sway, as they jaunt
ankle deep in charged water
daring each other and daring the sky
daring the noise with headphones still around necks
like defiant plastic boas
Clothes plastered, mouths open, rain-drunk
feeling ****, revealing secret intimate shapes,
feeling sheepishly exposed next
to crushes who will kiss them at the next movie.
I am aware of each nerve as I drip and shiver
I'm terrified of storms, my reasons are mine
but even this fear
can cat-stroke my skin
hyper-sensitized, electric
and make me feel
****, too.

Your words to me are like music
Singing through my flesh with savage pounding intensity
Machine gun metal grating against dead nerves
Making me feel
Bringing me alive
Opening my eyes
To all the rotting visceral pain of the world
You consume me 
Twisting turning yearning and burning thoughts
Broken.
Weak and open to the heated weight of your gaze
I sway into the bass line
Entranced
Veins bloated, full of liquid want 
Racing wild through my senses
Come closer with those playing fingers
I want to feel you 
Feeling me heavy with saturated desire
Igniting the night with the wet want you inspire