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Dan Kipp Apr 2010
As always,
read aloud
and enjoy.




It’s been one month,
30 days since the last time they touched.

I mean sure,
   hands’ve been held, lips’ve been locked, heart beats counted,
   armpits tickled, eyelashes licked,
   backs rubbed, hips hugged
   but

It’s been one month,
30 days since the last time they touched.

720 hours of smiles and telephone conversations and ticket stubs and flowers and mixtapes and tree climbing and
   waiting for the other to finish showering before the night begins and your recite again
   the smiles and telephone conversations and ticket stubs and flowers.

43,200 minutes since that night.
That night that night fell softer than
   eyelids overflowing with sleep.
Finding no full moon to mask,
The thin cloud cover sat in the sky
   like gasps passing lips slightly parted,
   like abandoned similes left suspended midsentence.
That night his house was
   cold as a corpse,
   empty as an elephant skeleton,
But between the two of them
They managed to salvage some warmth.
That night they whispered three words to each other
   through sheets of white linen and teeth.
Three words,
   the culmination of all they’d shared thus far,
Three words
   worth more than any that’d follow

In the one month
30 days
720 hours
43,200 minutes
2,592,000 seconds since the first time they had ***.

Yes it’s been one month,
30 days since the last time they touched.
A full moon since they made love,
******,
Poured the night’s libation into her drawing salty emotion from sincerity’s well giving back blood running blind turning brown against white cover down where three words were loosed from lips translating the *****’ leaning into one learning from the other like lusters slipping in and out of fun like lovers finding oneself in the other.

But time can’t count all the ways things have changed.
And time can’t stand him standing out in the rain.
And he can’t remember which hit him harder,
   her lips curving to form that big L word or
   her hips arching to meet his.
And he could hardly discern pain from pleasure and confusion swam in their hands until paralysis overtook their power to put a stop to it and he finished before she could fish up even a single coo but that didn’t matter because he was in love and loved in return and all the sudden the Beatles are making a whole ******* lot of sense because

It’s been one month,
30 days since the last time they touched,
And he doesn’t give a ****.
He’s just happy to be in love.
Dan Kipp May 2010
A haiku:*

Monkey see, monkey
throw **** at lover monkey.
Monkey make-up ***.
A haiku.
Now
Dan Kipp Feb 2010
Now
read this aloud, mind the punctuation,
and, finally,
enjoy.


amethyst eyes alight with nighttime lightning, clapping lashes spark ruminations rumbling across the savannah of memory imprinting in me the afterimage of Now.   Now, Now makes me hers -- though i’m more willing a captive than she imagines: imprisoned in the present, tasting the electricity resounding in this soundless cell () deafeningly solid --
she grooves before me.
slowly rolls me
me rolls slowly  
molasses boiling tongues twisting towards me
ba-da doom ba-doom doom doom.

i don’t know if it’s the fireflies caught in midnight-amber jars suspended by strands of suicidal curls tumbling down the pitch of your back,
or
your touch, come tentatively, but nonetheless titillating, for it softly pleas me to get grounded, stay a while in the timbre of warm fireside conversation and cocoa,
or
your teacup of a navel compelling i to lift laughter, fish up reminiscences, and transcend time,
or
when you lean close and lick me with your eyelash, as if a butterfly’s kiss,
or
your soft voice smoothly singing songs of four-lettered blues .   .     .

.     .   . my god you’re gorgeous.

dance with me, Now     for two more turns of the moon let’s defy posterity and traverse the curves of each other’s words and purge our selves of self     let’s anesthetize Now, marinate in the moment, savor the silence and become sap-trapped fossils left for the future     let’s live a lifetime together in two more turns of the moon, Now,     so that I may memorize every quark of every electron of every neutron of every proton of every atom of every ion of every molecule of every cell of every sinew of every tissue of every ***** and every system of all your beauty, Now, you are perfect because you are am is and will never be anywhere else but here and nothing else but Now.

feel me?
   feel her?

      feel here?


Now.

— The End —