I sat there and thought
I was rooted to the spot
Thinking in what ifs

If I was not there
Would anyone care
If I did not show

And I concluded
That none of them ever would
Then began to smile

I went through the day
Thinking, Smiling, about that
Until I saw her

I owed her a gift
An old promise to fulfill
And then I ran off

For I knew well, that
Should I look her in the eye
My smile would just break

For I knew the look
That I would receive from her
Of fear and worry

As she could see me
And what I truly think of
For she has seen it

Reflected on her
And that night I felt my life fade
For I had done it

I had made me fade
But a bright light, a siren
I pictured her face

And then I woke up
Sprawled in a bed, but not mine
The wound stitched shut

And again I thought
Of what she may do, Should she
Not see me again

For, she may notice
If I was never again,
To give her a hug

Sad Winter music plays
In the background of my life
As I sit in an empty doorway
Writing empty love poems
All across my skin
And I think about the potential
Tattoos I could put there
To one day look at
And see nothing

This weather
Of things slow to end
And things slow to begin
Makes me think that maybe
One day soon
These empty poems
Could have meaning again

Arched across the balustrade,
Silently keening
A poignant, broken elegy
Unceasing refrains and requiems;

Touch of death unveiled
Ever so gentle,
Wicked in its false lies
And beguiling sweet façade.

Crimson, staining
Seeping through the depths,
Oh how savage,
Cruelly taunting, vicious.

And yet all that we saw,
Was a halo shining bright
A bringer of of life and death
In calming repose, an angel.

Scrambling to get to the 81st floor.
Outrageous? Yes. But who could ask for more.
My coffee spills as I fly through the office door.
But it's worth the price, I can't live poor.

My office is the best. $10,000 conference table, oak cabinets, view of the financial capital of the world.
Five assistants, three for my organization, one for coffee, and the other is best kept secret, so the wife does not find out.
I make more than I can spend, yet all expenses are paid for.

Some might call me lucky, I disagree, I call myself hardworking.
Some might call me lucky, I disagree, word came in that my flight tomorrow morning will be postponed.

This means that I will have to postpone my meeting with my biggest client. But it's ok, because he needs my business.

I guess I can come in to work tomorrow morning.
It will be one more step to the top, to become number one.
As my calendar reads September tenth, two thousand and one.

give me the pleasure of knowing
that i can please you in ways that not even you can
i want to detain your innermost secrets
i want to become more familiar with your body than you are
tell me your favorite fingers
    let’s discover your favorite toy
i want to know which spot makes you shiver
i want to know which spot makes you moan
   i want to know exactly what type of stroke makes you shake
i want to know which spot makes
                        your eyes
                            your hips
                                 your head
                                             roll
                    so that i know precisely when to roll you over
                            and vivaciously assault you from behind
                                   while i croak romantic entities
       and watch them travel down the notches of your spine
       and wrap themselves around your earlobes
and curl their exclamatory hands around your throat
                            and reach around your body
     and diligently massage your ****
           while the planes of your forearms give out
          due to the weariness of supporting not only your body
but also the head on your shoulders
whirring with the fact that this moment is almost
too large for you
         just like the member pumping
              in and out of you is
and just like that member
               these moments were at first
               difficult to swallow

  let me stop
         and take a moment to admire the way sweat
gives your curves a flattering spotlight
and provides the candles in the room more reason to
      applaud and reach their crowns in the air
            almost as if to detach themselves from
their own wax and join us
                      in order to extinguish
                                             the fire deep within themselves
            by allowing me to drown them in their own juices
                                                        ­just as you have
        i want to admire the way sheets of sweat
                                       glaze your skin
           in the same way your juices glaze
           your opening

let me enter you
    as you pucker your mouth
bite your lip
and beg for more
i want to know exactly what makes you
denounce me to the dirtiest of things
give me a title only worn by those wearing sweat
  and exhalations

scream my name
pull those eyebrows together
and spread those legs further apart
and let the part of me
that isn’t me
(but is me)
deeper inside of you

let me carry you to ******
             afterwards i'll lean down and bury my mouth
between your legs
and taste what meal your supplementary pair of lips
  have prepared for me
i want to digest my libidinous progress
and mount this triumph in my heart
as the first of many
powerfully lecherous
conquered temptations


k.n

“i have something to tell you”
she whispered
i looked at her and could tell
exactly what was on her mind
her words were written all over her
like a third grade chalkboard
etched with multiplication tables
her eyes were glossy
and the only bit of color in her face
was within her cheeks
she looked as if her lunch was about to come
right up into her lap
her fingers were writhing
her eyes were roaming around the room
  holding the worry that consumed her
she told me that she had never in her life
been so in love with someone
and that she was afraid

not afraid of me hurting her
   but afraid of her hurting
because if there was nothing
in life that she gathered
the lesson would still remain that
she would always
get hurt
she would always cry
she would always break
eventually
i gently took my hand
to the side of her rosy cheek
and croaked,
with what seemed like cotton in my throat
and liquid coals in my eyes,
“i know”

she looked into my eyes
and i into hers
in the way that only lovers do
and with our lips pressed together,
her hand passionately grabbing
the back of my head, gathering
  fistfuls of my hair as if it were anchoring
  her to the harbor of clarity and understanding,
with my hands gripping her hips
  as if to steal her away from the
atmosphere for a minute,
we sealed our fate
  as libidinous lovers
   (but also ingenuous best friends)

*k.n

If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.