There is still a softness here
Hidden along my laugh lines
Occasionally reaching my eyes
Allowing you a glimpse of what could be
Regret. Life taken too soon. Grief.
All of these have hardened me
Where there was lightness sits heavy
Bones of birds now steel
Molded Osmium to once pliable exterior
Replaced constant sun with drifting shadow
Yet all of this is still me, my spirit unchained
Unchanged
To want me is to accept all parts
Regardless of their weight

I often sit and wonder
Amongst the blurred water colors of twilight
What you would have to say about today
Commenting softly on the morning bird song
Humming against the back of my neck in sleepy adoration
Sometimes I cry with longing, with regret
At all we will never share
Most often I smile that secret you and me smile
At all we were able to lay bare
The weight of your hand in mine has no measure
I recognize it in the deep hours of night
I'll hear your voice, taste your taste
Notice your presence in bright summer light
We lived drunk, so high our eyes crossed
Soaking up every second we had to grab
Nothing that strong lasts for long
I'm blessed to have loved you
Blessed to love you still

i want to feel the rush,
the tingly fireworks under my skin,
the buzzing sparks of awakeness.
i want to feel the bubble burst in my chest.
i want to dance. i want to ride the music
like a rollercoaster,
i want the thrill of the next drop,
the next wave of euphoria
pulsating through my veins
like electric current conducted by
all the goings-on around me
i want your energy and my energy
mixing together in the air around us
like a glittery galaxy milky-way aura,
a sanctuary of our own vibrations,
a place where our hearts are huge
and our egos small.
a place of peace, of love,
of unity, and respect,
of higher elevations
and acceptance for all.
can't we just do drugs?

It's almost June.
Still got a fire going.

I don't see myself as one of those
Scandinavian poets who write

Almost only about the weather
Without reason.

The weather is a woman.
As angry as she is breathtaking

Around here.
Turned on and scared,

We brace for impact before
Every forecast.

Will there be a summer at
All, or dull, lightless skies of

Unblue until the rain comes
Down solid again?

I dip my pen in warm memories.
Sad that they are mostly

From abroad, I surrender the idea
Of truth in poetry.

Well, we drink around fires.
Cling to the military standard long

Underwear we stole when we were
In.

See too much as potential
Firewood.

We notice that the sun never
Really sets these months,

But there's room for cold in
The light.

We pray for summer. Hoping
This year it falls

On a
Weekend.

If you were a book
I would stay up all night
Feverishly flipping pages
Soaking up every single syllable
To know your ending

If you were a tropical island
I would explore your lush, secret interior
Spending long, lazy afternoons naked
Sun drunk on your shores

If you were a ***** joke
I would throw my cackles to the ceiling
Careful to not burst windows
Making sure to retell you often
Your punch line only gets better

If you were a roller coaster
I would wait in line for half the day
Just to be caressed by your safety harness soaked in other's sweat
Not to mention your talent with G-spots,* I mean forces*

If you were early morning
I would brew you strong and extra hot
Sipping cautiously at your ceramic edges
Watching blue smoke lazily curl
Then taking deep gulps as you cool
Buzzed on you till the afternoon

If you were mine
I would fill up your long dried and crusted ink wells
Encourage your laughter to come out to play
But above all
I would love you. Madly.

Deep sighs at day break*
Our heated surface no match for the inferno inside
Raging for the ache of your dark touch
Sweat slicks already lubricated flesh
I curve into the muscled wall of your chest
Closer
I need it
I need you
Appalachia shadows criss cross fogged windows
Penetrating stories written along their dewed edges
I writhe beneath your whispers of
"Come for me"
Body bowed, tight like violin strings
Played by expert, elegant fingers
Shudder. Surrender
The seat of my soul flooding with pleasure, with release
Request granted

I feel you in subtle trickles
At times a deluge
Words fall not on deaf ears
Just softly
The push and pull is palpable
Silky surfaces greeting imagined rough hands
You are used to dirt beneath their edges
Both are carried by the sounds of little feet behind us
Echoing the future of our old age
Trepidation lingers in the air between our breaths
If only we were more like moon shine
Straight forward
Less like skittish ponies