before it falls i dilate
with electric scent, spine-hairs
string her possibilities as kites
to tug my summon ground--
lilt, wave and spiral
distant mischief to a head.
i rumble on the vista, far, and,
on occasion of a social clearing hum,
chance aloneness on a hill
to watch the herald lake and trees, nets
secure themselves as emblems to my storied lust.
apsara, i
breathe you in in strokes
submit unconscious rhythm of imaginal delights
made real to last beyond experience of time
descended of the clouds
sea rich, heavy, sultry
you unroll an atmospheric fate:
my lust to span the sky, irrupt an earthen,
orgiastic zenith of all things--burst fantastic quell
in pale continuum your pedestal allays

floating hair as long as frantic overcast
horizon length
and indistinct of rain..
green, blue continents of eyes, mists
suspend ecstatic sway
in areolae breeze,
my hands the brimming cups
to gather, spill
bright ****** drops
into the signal essence rising,
center rhythm of a liquid bounce
that shines in belly-button crescent moon--
each gust a lapping of the sky-clad ache of moonlit summer leaves,
another sudden adolescence lost and gained--
falls on me, dripping
legs to wrap and draw in
every ***** blade of grass--
saturate the lingam i am living in--
enveloped in vaginal dance of pressure
pulling on the earth i am
an arching back
and skyward ******

begun before a time historians belie
wind genie, yoni,
full of all i ever willed..
how rare appearance has to be,
knowing you unique
to whimsically revise
your lightning shape akin
exotic form to fit my changing own
and yet you don't exist, my eyebrow says
between horizon-cracks
and patter of the gale--
bolts to spread dark syrup
through my veins..
i am intent on having you
to let you have me as your first and last
--being young
i am intent on twining my virginity to you,
to pierce my own hymenal dome--
slick with yearning, thundering
in moan across the hills and puddled tennis courts
undulating to my concord whim
your rivuletted ***** of the gods, goddesses --gulped between inhaling--
eyes that roll pineal
genesis denuded of a crime, apparel
gone insane delight
of endless tempest ***--
the purge cascades a vacuum in each vessel..
limp on writhing grass
euphoric in a space of never having been

what soul i have
her visitation marked--
with gridless memories unfaded by the games a decade
striates on the mind. i made
her more than what my way would make of her
and less for what my symbols lose;
i call her muse,
and forfeit right to call her anything again.
i am the burning key and lock
our chastity attained and lost
in vaporous blurring of all stars
rewinking in the gossamer above






.

1.
I have in my fingers
A blade of grass
For company.



2.
Nature helps the mind to see
How things change all the time.

Yes, I should welcome change more readily.



3.
It's just.....

It's just the secrets you keep all hid
From me
From us.

Like a new toy
You don't wanna share.

That,
I can't stand.



4.
Ever the near-invisible threads... barely touching
The outstretched branches show
So much.

Oh, how Nature plans
Yet
Accommodating

All.



5.
Ants and insects scurry along their busy path
Oblivious to the fray
Unseen by human eye.

Petals blossom, open eyes
In the the middle of the desert.

Perched high on treetops
Shiny leaves, nests nearby
Boast depth of intricacy and
Delicate motif.


Yet....



6.
Canst thee be content, also
To see also thorns upon thy path?

For, it's the background of it all
Which helps prepare our reading
Of some (hard) things we discover
Along the way.



7.
Why, naturally.




S T, 10 April 2013

I am clean.
I have walked home in the rain.
I've never done so before.
Hood down, chin up, pants sopping.
I've never seen what I looked like, dripping rain water and mascara, with a look of peace in my stormy eyes.

I am new
because I have walked home in the rain.
With every boom of crashing thunder, I was re-baptized in the purest of conditions.
I, myself, have been denied such a cleaning for so long.

But now that I have walked home in the rain,  my mind is fresh. I am acutely aware of all senses and emotion, like someone has cleared my mind's plate of old and set a new table of knowing before it.
When the drops hit my skin, and I felt my pores pucker, I was tingling in my very bones, and I no longer felt the need to crawl out of my own casing.

Now that I have walked through the emerald grass, wet with purity, over the hills of the silent past, and in the pouring rain of new, I praise my content stay.

I walked home in the rain, and I am whole.
I walked home in the rain and found the sun.