softly opening eyes, seeing you lost and your mind swirling in cosmos
a peek and a secret smile crosses face
arms and hands reaching and grasping, kiss intuitive
tongue searching and teeth intervening on lips
clothes slowly coming off, hands imploring, asking questions:
what is it like to touch the softness of your inner thigh?
may i pull you closer to me like this?
hands now urging:
i must memorize every inch of your skin.
mouths searching on collarbones and clashing with veins
pulling them in and leaving a colliding of firework spots:
purple bruised, summertime blackberry bush thorns.
song change, at a turning point to you,
you push forward, absolutely drinking in
everything you can at once, hard and
pressing body to body so tightly you would preserve flowers
(if one had bothered to bring a crown of violets).
i'm beckoning and suddenly bold, my hands now curious and
my mouth looking for new material,
something with which to build a new collection of moans
and gasps and things that make your fingers clench.
warmth flows from my mouth like honey, my tongue
roiled and flattened
a quick glance and you are breathless and
my blood is boiling in the most fantastic way
you grasp me hard and every weapon you have to
make me helpless is in use. lights. it ends.
loser loser loser tired dawn bleary eyed hand curled on flowers
scraping shoe across pavement worn soles kneesocks mr rogers backdrop sky
dialogue written character fake animals fake trees fake streets
nonexistent breeze haze geometry in the sky
pale skin human flaws marks scratches heavy bassline no lyrics
cross legged cold parking lot top of the world where are you
i am here i'm waiting i'm just a loser loser loser
eighties buildings sharp architechture human invention
empty tennis court cracked follow the lines loser loser
shifting not really here just driving urban deterioration
no existentialism just close your eyes you'll be here tomorrow
the days of the week have become much more relevant
when every day is the day i'm wishing to spend with you
curled up in the warmth of my honeysuckle bedsheets
our knees to our chests and our eyes on eachother's lips
my wandering hands and your tendency to press against
and our eternal desire to speak in silent streams.
we kept quiet for a while, struck by the daybreak sunlight
and the way steam slowly rose from a foreign mug.
until your starved hands felt for my collarbones
and your teeth were no longer shy to mine
and your straightening spine carried me to refuge.
you were not any particular way but passionate
and your subtle voice carried me to your rescue
and the most satisfying thing I have ever seen
is the incredulous look on your face and
your slack jaw and messy hand-ruffed hair
eyes wide with the face of spent thrills
I think I found you when I was
halfway between crying and laughing
Lost in misty daydream
And when I turned you were
Another vapid illusion!
So I put my hand right through you
--But it stopped right at your heart--
And I held it in quiet contemplation
only smart thought flowing through:
"What is this?"
Sometimes still difficult
To face the way I'm headstrong in being my own
And like standing on people's back porches
And pricking shins in blackberry patches
And the way heavy summer air tastes best
when you're crying
In someone else's backyard.
Easy to find a place
You can quell loneliness
Against your own image
In empty stomach and acid teeth.
The canine eyes with deepened breadth
and knowing wandring gaze
he stands upon untimely death
and steps into the haze.
the deepened barrel, heaving chest
and air pushed into lungs
push him out onward to the crest
to distant shooting guns.
with limber leap
and sturdy paw
my canine friend will seek
into my lap and he will draw
himself against my beating chest.