Savouring the wait,
Laying out the bait,
Listening,
Glistening.

Groan escapes your lips,
Slight shiver of hips,
I know
You grow.

Finally, I feel your touch
Subtle pressures, not too much,
We'll play
Your way.

Hands upon me, with insistence,
Growing rough, meet no resistance,
Capture
Rapture.

Do you want me to feel small?  Shall I make myself small for you, now?
Tiny, tiny, tinier than the tiniest of things?
(they've found some very tiny things)
Am I too LARGE for you?
Do I embarrass you?
Do you think that I embarrass myself, with my H U G E N E S S?
My big voice, my *******, my BIG brazen ways?
I am not embarrassed.
I am not tiny.
I am not sorry.
It's deliberate.
You are the small one.
So small
So very small
That you
Might
just
Disape-

I cannot sleep until you're home. The second that you slip under the sheets beside me I will allow sleep to take me, almost brutally. Having you beside me is enough, there need be no communication.

No-one is closer to me than you and yet, I lead a secret inner life that I just can't explain to you. I have no idea how you would respond if I were to communicate these truths. Some of these thoughts make little sense, even to me. It is enough just to have you by my side. No-one can, or should, know everything about another. You know, without knowing.

But you will be home soon. I lie here, so far from sleep, yet exhausted, and trace the contours of your face in my mind, over and over again. Your face is like granite, you are bearlike, fierce; safety, protection and sleep. You will be home, and I will lose myself in dreams that I cannot fall into while you are absent. In those dreams, there are things I cannot face alone in this bed.

You will be home, to free me from exhaustion, you will come home.

Hurry home.

You felt like paper
Flimsy and unsure
I was afraid to take
A picture with my
Mind. You might
Float away when
the flashbulb shines
Losing control of
Everything
Because all I can
Remember
Is kissing you in the summer
Sliding my hand up the back of your skirt
I loved you
I really really did
When I knew nothing else
But the skin on your face
Glowing green in the dashboard light
I cant think of another line for this poem
My heart is too broken to remember the rest

the straddling vines are there, I know,
near the bedroom window,
dangling against a starless sky,
cascading the night, with a muted sly;
encroaching the intermittent silences,
between us, going places.
cashing in on my ignorance
of their senses,
compared to mine, immersed in her *****
and on her thighs, the straddling veins
shining on both, an eager moon, in vain
as the clouds moved in to veil my lay in.

I can eat chocolate until I want to *****,
Down ***** until the room spins,
Pump weights until my muscles disown me
Or walk for miles until my legs tremble
And my heart calls for help in panicky spasms.
I can do all these things, again and again,
I can hate myself, berate myself, and half **** myself,
But I can't escape myself,
So I am as well forgive myself,
Love myself, accept myself,
And try to find redemption from within.

These are outsiders, always. These stars—
these iron inklings of an Irish January,
whose light happened
thousands of years before
our pain did; they are, they have always been
outside history.
They keep their distance. Under them remains
a place where you found
you were human, and
a landscape in which you know you are mortal.
And a time to choose between them.
I have chosen:
out of myth in history I move to be
part of that ordeal
who darkness is
only now reaching me from those fields,
those rivers, those roads clotted as
firmaments with the dead.
How slowly they die
as we kneel beside them, whisper in their ear.
And we are too late. We are always too late.