1
What is Earth but your shell?
But the sweetest comfort found in a bed of moss,
welcoming and warm,
soft dark green,
the fragrance of motherly earth misted on this everlasting pillow,
inviting you to eternal slumber -

Would you grant me just a minute,
a gently sweeping, dreaming moment of rest
under your cover of moss and twigs
(that is to say your skin and ribs)
and would you tuck me in with your rose petal lips pressed to my cheek,
your honeysuckle tongue flicking playfully as you laugh,
the sweet-voiced laughter of faeries and pixies,
as only you know how to coax out of your golden throat,
your lavender fingers grazing my jaw and eyelids, my cupid’s bow
hungrily asking for more, silently -

Here in this honeymoon suite of mosses,
the morning dew yet still shining on your nose -
a starry sky of freckles, a heaven on its own -
I lay my head in your lap as gently as a leaf on the wind,
barely felt,
barely there at all -


2
Buried deep inside,
deep, deep beneath the first and second and fifth layer of Earth,
where Mother Nature holds her own heart and takes a bite of it, too -
where Father Sun cannot reach anymore and
only roots snake through the soil,
this is where I lay and wait for your return come spring.
The shell falling asleep above me and
the fires of Earth’s core lively dancing underneath…
Here I make my bed to lie and expect in,
to humbly await as your lavender fingers take roots anew
and grow attached to your leafy body, watery yet wooden,
fragrant in the night of my soil.

When will you return to me, my heart’s desire?
To end my winter and invite spring, summer,
autumn all at once,
a raging storm of emotional seasons and none are too much to hold
for the strong Earth keeps them caged in and safe,
untouched by the outer world -
no fire or sea or thunder fit to taint them.

Please come back soon and put your elven dagger to the ravenous throat of my cold
       lonesomeness.

I exist between here and the deep blue sea;
here, and the olive tree;
between water and mango.
I sign letters in another's name
to profess my love to you;
like lilac in wind and rain
I endure.

Like rosehips in a summer breeze
swaying in their gentle dance -
bending to the higher force
in devoted trance.

And my love is wild and wicked
as a thicket of thorned roses;
my heart, that hungry, livid thing
twists itself in painful poses
at the mere sight of your face.

What is a soul when split in two,
if not a home to return to?

What is your gentle, tender touch
if not the ultimate reward,
a dream come true, an ache for more -
the yearning for "la petite mort".

I want to touch you like the ocean
crashing against a rocky shore.
I want to taste you like Eve
taking the first bite of sweetness.
I want to see you, hear you sing,
watch you throw yourself into the fire
of the night, the heat surrounding
your naked body, and mine.

I want to hold your legs apart
and flick my tongue against ripe fruit,
a peach-furry, strange delight,
red and eager, biting back,
licking scratching opening, not
in defense, but pleasure.

I exist between here and the deep blue sea;
between here, and the olive tree;
between thigh and hip.
I sign letters in another's name
to profess my love to you;
like a hummingbird at sunrise
I want to drink the morning dew.

I stepped into the holy light -
your light -
but I couldn't see you
you shone too bright
Your silhouette was barely there
and I began to fear
that no part of you was even real
a mere figment of my imagination
But we tied together
bonded fiercely
like fire we burned the dark
until I succumbed to all you were
and you left me, nothing but a spark
Your robbed the light, you took it all
grasped my soul and heart
clutched my mind and made it yours
merged with me, the dark
And I gave all that I had to you
willingly
and you took without thinking twice
or uttering a word.

You and I, handcrafted in lust,
borne of sea and blood -
you, of Aphrodite,
and I, of Ares.
The violence of your love
destined to be matched only
by the tenderness of my violence.

And my hands, war-given, strong,
made for battle,
grow soft at your hips, and
softer yet at the cliff of your thighs,
as they crash softly in the bay in-between.
And how these hands long for you, my child of goddess,

long for you like the armor of my chest longs
for your sweet mouth,
longs for your gentle fingertips
in the calm before the storm.
The passion of your tenderness a momentary reprieve
before I go to war;

and when I go, oh, the power that overcomes me,
and the weapons I will bring,
and the blood I will draw.
In the fashion of my father, as he tied Aphrodite's hair
in his fist, and
as he broke down her barriers, claiming her city,
her temple,
her soul.

The lullaby of her moans
reminiscent in your voice,
my favorite sound and
my chosen battle cry.

The land of milk and honey
is liquid again -
all rivers flowing, all
summer winds blowing, all
leaves green and fresh

if there is
a price for love, a price for your touch,
I'll gladly pay the Pharaoh,
I'll gladly be the crutch for
all his wise men and oracles,
all his wives and daughters and sons

I'll carry their burdens with joy,
every day, night for night,
spurned on by the promise of
your lips, your thighs,
your honeysuckle skin, your
rose colored hair, your
sun-kissed face, the spots dancing on your nose.

In the land of milk and honey
I found my worship in its rivers,
its seas of gold and pearl,
its lap that's filled with lilacs and rosehips,
and I will kiss you good morning until
the sun doesn't rise and
the stars don't shine and
the moon doesn't watch our prayers at night anymore.

“I love you” in its kaleidoscope dress dances
like sunshine upon the waves -
does it remind you of something?
Does it remind you of me, my love,
as I sit here and write and break my heart over
entertaining a fantasy;

For you to say my name, just once - just once -
to hear your gentle breath exclaim this personal ecstasy of mine,
this declaration of victory that yes, I am myself!
Finally, instantly -
just one word from your lips - this word - and the fever of
battle inside me rages,
the body ready to swim all seas and win all wars,
to tear up all earth just
for you -
to find you, my lover, yes,
to return to a home of you.
I promise I will, and forever more I shall,
in exchange for the sound of
your rose water perfumed voice
caressing the essence of my Self.

I could
spin this song forever
let it wash endlessly
through the streets of the world, just to
declare my love for you,
just to shout your name into the night
or sing it as gracefully as I could
to infect every heart and ear with my feeling,
this emotion that overpowers me,
makes me crumble, fall to my feet,
lift my voice to highest praise, a taste unfamiliar to my mouth;
praise does not come so easily to me as the blade to a throat.
So have I not done enough to prove myself to you?
Have I not given all my heart, and all my soul, too -

Still no word. No answer.
The hunger inside my heart throws me forward,
edges me closer to the abyss,
the forlorn nothing, the never-ending absence,
a loveless mist to swallow me forever,
and you, my only savior, looking on,
your face a stone-cold mask.
You don’t want to let me in.
Don’t take my hand - for I could pull you down with me,
couldn’t I, my love?
The only power I possess is destruction.
This fragile bird of ours,
I swallow it whole between gnashing teeth,
and snap the neck of delicacy with the careless tongue
of unrequited love.

And who am I, after all,
but covered in dirt and blood, kneeling
at the altar of your love,
begging for my life as if
all the wars and battles won
matter nothing now. Perhaps they don’t -
what good is honor to me if
you crush it with one bare foot?
What good are strength and death and victory if
I was never destined to succeed in the king’s battle -
the last stand my heart could take, only to
lose the fight?
I have died more viciously by the sharp cut of your cool shoulder,
my love,
than I have ever hurt at the hands of a thousand men.

I, warlike, once a God,
wounded and fallen, now,
collapsed without dignity at your feet,
pleading for mercy
and crying, with every sense of emotion,
“I love you.”

Like ships in the night
we pass - side by side - not breaking our stride,
not looking left, not gazing right,
barely glimpsing each other, like light-
houses, signals blinking brightly.

For the longest time we were alone
still are, no change tonight, we won't;
I've felt your presence long ago,
it was a silent gift.

How did we not recognize each other
after screaming for so many hours?
Listening to your soft cries  (your blue eyes),
Norwegian wood between us guards your lies -
you pretend to be rich and pretty;
I know you're just the janitor of the ferry.
The first mate, the captain, all remotely
far away and you're all that's left -
you are the second best.

Thankfully I'm not picky,
I don't care if you're not pretty,
I only need to see your hands and heart -
the rough patches are a part - of you, of me, of all the world,
and you're so out of reach, of sight,
and I know that it won't feel right; despite that
we shouldn't feel alone tonight.
And you have a wife-

and I know but I don't care.
You won't hesitate to stare,
and I can feel your bitter look upon my back,
the fingers that won't touch my neck
no matter how much I beg and plead for you to take me
and love me, unconditionally,
before I fall into the sea,
the water claiming me fully,
the waves brutally forcing me
under themselves, generously,
drowning in my bed.

like blood, it drips
the honey from your lips
running along
the gentle curve of your neck
the sharp edge of your collarbone
between the heart and ribs
down and further
pooling on Venus

the water swirls your hair
pearls on your silken skin
the love in your eyes
hooded, dilated
colors bursting from their seams
and hot as cold
violets blossoming in the night
rose buds perking, opening
as does the cave of your mouth

Pointy nose, freckled bridge
Fair creme skin, speckled lips
Dark green eyes under dotted lids
Flaming hair weaves around your neck
and polka shoulders

Warm emotion sits in your cheeks
Stubborn chaos to your teeth
Roaring throat behind bowed lips
Willpower in raw fingertips
palms so rough from housework

Sturdy arms and steady legs
Robust frame to birthing hips
Heart of fire in its thick-walled cage
beats for me so strong and brave.