I found you in a ditch
You were ripped up and tangled
I couldn't even tell if you were breathing
And you confided in me, who'd left you here

The girl you loved had you by the strings
She was tearing out your stitches
And wringing out your blood
While I tried to sew you back together,

She took a plane out of Chicago
And landed in another boy's arms.
You told me it was your fault
That she wanted more than this

I never trusted you’d survive with her
You tried for years and years
To untangle the thread, and I found
you wound up and choking.

You've always been a patient man,
So full of sympathy, an endless apology.
But you said you're leaving in a month
I hope you meant it.

And as your lips trembled upon mine I swear I could have died
because that moment seemed to be the reason for my very existence.
Your persistence? It's cute but
lately you've been on mute 'cause
you almost never come my way. But your eyes,
darling, they say so much.
I'm feeling this energy in every touch.
Maybe you're nervous. Or maybe I
am just over-reacting so I'm sorry
because that is my very nature.
But for you, I'll make sure everything is perfect
'cause you're worth it.

i slipped inside an atom to see what i was made of,
and i saw you there too.
hanging out with molecules,
we created as we went.
our dna collided,
neutralizing all that was,
evolving into something else.
we realized it was still us, and that
change was the essence of our creativity.
We stopped holding on,
and flew freely through every dimension.
and when we were done,
i went inside.

Numb nostrils,
jittery tongues,
swarming the cutting board.
Sharks, whose blood lust
shot off the charts
with the sight of one little baggie,
gnash their teeth
"Pour it out! Line it up!"
"Here's yours!"
"I can't feel my teeth!"
all caught on the reef
thrashing for another dose.
Who am I to judge with this
white gold
in my nose.

Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.

Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved,--
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.

For it was in my heart you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,--
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.

Steamy hot lazy summer day,
Layin' around, not much to say.

No surprise and not by chance,
Is the thought of you in skintight pants.

Is it midday? It got real warm,
No, just a reaction to the upcoming storm.

Not here are you, but it matters little,
I will play my member, just like a fiddle.

My thoughts of you burning desire,
My manliness climbs higher and higher.

Sensual lips pressed up against mine,
Tasting better than a classic wine.

Your southern lips they burn like fire,
As I stroke them, soon we will sire.

I place my lips to the burning mound,
And kiss and tease, you fall to the ground.

I climb upon you and hear you say,
"Wait a minute, I have a better way."

You climb upon me and rock and ******,
Until my body turns to powdered dust.

We lay together and fall a sleep,
Secret is our *** I can keep.

The next thing I know I open my eyes,
And you are before me, to my surprise.

"Hi honey, how was your day?"
I grab you and tell you, "it went this way."

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i will wade out
                        till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
                                       Alive
                                                 with closed eyes
to dash against darkness
                                       in the sleeping curves of my body
Shall enter fingers of smooth mastery
with chasteness of sea-girls
                                            Will i complete the mystery
                                            of my flesh
I will rise
               After a thousand years
lipping
flowers
             And set my teeth in the silver of the moon

Let's take what we have
(memories that are like
segments of oranges, bursting
at the seams),
            piece everything together
with lines,
and
play dot to dot .-.-.-,

                   the lines that join us
                          are the
              gateways,
        boundaries
and bridges
into our world,
that keep
my
perfect pocket smiles

safe.