rainbow colored  butterfly
floating through my dreams
delicate and fair
full of life and rare

you flutter at my periphery
daring me to touch
always just beyond my grasp

better if I should never hold you
wrap you up inside my palm
within my arms enfold you

for then my dream would end
and I would awaken
with blood and butterfly wings
stuck between my fingers

Is it your face
that adorns the garden?

Is it your fragrance
that intoxicates this garden?

Is it your spirit
that has made this brook
a river of wine?



Hundreds have looked for you
and died searching
in this garden
where you hide behind the scenes.



But this pain is not for those
who come as lovers.

You are easy to find here.

You are in the breeze
and in this river of wine.

You are like a beauty contest
Where nobody is keeping score.
The clothes make you beautiful
But I like you naked even more.
You’re a hot hunk of manhood
From your hairline to your boots
And you look a lot better naked
Than some men look in suits.

Yeah, I have to admit it here
It was your looks caught my eye
But as time went by I discovered
There was much more to you, guy.
There’s poetry and wit and then
That ever present sense of fun.

At first it was just infatuation;
A fan sitting close to the stage.
But later it turned into something
Beyond a **** picture on a page.
I found out there was more to you
Than the beauty that stops hearts.
There is something special there
That sets you delightfully apart.

So, I hope I can be forgiven
For being such a rabid fan.
I have excellent taste in things
Like the looks of a hot man.
I have heard so many call you
One hot, **** son of a gun.
Of the members of your fan club
I’m sure I am your number one.

What,
what shall I do with you?
My gipsy, my fix, my oyster, sea —
only a few spiritual members
gather in front of you, speechless:
my eyes, lips, *****, hands…
— And the heart, my love, where is the heart?
Here and here, and there, my love,
in every place
that your lips touch.

Amir Or from *Let's speak you

Your body
clamps to mine
like a magnet
or an electric eel.

Feel the jolting
current bounce
and flow and
jerking take
hold of you.

Particles dance
us tighter
together
like fleshly
puppets.

See how we
clutch and
writhe and
grind, hum
like overloaded
lines.

No escape
once you
touch the
live wire.

And anyway:

nowhere else
you want
but here;
nothing else
you want
to be,

but a jello mold
of...

Quantum,
Quivering,
Lust.

- mce

she's easy to spot,
long dark hair,
eyes like dark
pools of chocolate.

skin with the
softness of silk,
with ruby red lips,
that beg to be touched.

she walks the shore
beside the sea.
stealing all the
beauty there is to see.

she firmly
runs her
wet hand
up and down
down and up
its slippery
length

before placing
the spatula
on the cloth
to dry

  ~mce

He wants his honey in lace
and combat boots.


A hip so smooth it burns like
whiskey going down,


and dreams that spell
like perfume
when he lights her cigarette
and dives into never-land.


she wants a fair fight
a fighting chance.


This is an equal opportunity
my space,
Coxbones and ashes.