Stroking the cool surface
that my head rests against
My mind empties of every thought
Every feeling
But the sensation
Of being entrapped within
a point dimension.
...
Reaching past the darkness
As the dimension grows ever larger
Draining my vision,
Stretching my will
thinner and thinner
Is it me who is shrinking
Or is the darkness growing larger?
What is it, that the warmth escapes me
As soon as I reach closer...
Falling out of reach
Never nearly close enough
To fall through my fingers.

That tight feeling in my throat
And that
Air that tugs on my lungs
And that
Urge to tear myself open
In a scream that fills
The empty landscape
...
Closing my eyes,
The cold melding away,
My head sliding down
In a legato staccato of my essence.

There’s always ****, misery and deep conversations

At the cheffette’s restaurant table down the harbor road.
Your nervous eyes said you love me,
Napkin holders and the salt and pepper jars,
Stood between us: Two people on a date.
St. Thomas and Christchurch.

Nervous sweat and sweaty palms—
So young, so unknowing, so innocent,
Blue happily but nervously times
Grueling stomachs, Emotional changes,
always lead to peer pressure

What a hell of an evening, under the other‘s gaze,
You remember the important events in my life,
I come to accept the sensitive side of yours

Your slender build: my blue bellbottom fitted jean
Curious as George in an animated scene
Your eyes was wider than any taskbar

You couldn’t make it through a first dinner date
I gobbled down my food with a glass of fruit drink
Easing my hunger and nervousness tension:

Of times so memorable, yet gone with the wind
Like platform shoes, and the disco satin jeans
All remove from our closets, like the baggage in our lives
Leaving tainted memories and nasty scars:
Here we are today, still eating at different tables.

There are words hiding
in the shadows of your body
Script too dark to write
for my wrist is too weak and ink too thin

Unstaged monologue
Unspoken song
Unwritten essay
Unravelled riddle

Grant me an inkling, my lover
a concession for my effort; a reward for my toil
So I can construe the omitted allusion
So I can hear the whispering voice of your soma

Touch me, with the tip of your fingers let,
tidal vibrations gently flow from your veins,
through your limbs straight into me. Throb,
pulsate, overwhelm me with your power, invade

my nerves with the notes you compose, oh
so delightfully. Inundate my tangible self
with your essence as palms, ineluctably reach
for more. Caress the skin, make me shiver, enjoy

the tremors of the chords you play, oh so sublimely.
Move closer, embrace me, cover me in
your sentiments, introduce me to them let’s,
listen to the pounding tune of palpitations

and when, my head starts spinning continue,
don’t pull away, excruciate your instrument,
perform your best, make it hard for me
to breathe but hold me, as I groan and lose

my grip, while knees inexorably weaken.